Lie To Me
by Strawberrywaltz
Summary: Sequel to Your Lie/Pinocchio's Demise. Plot: Clint has been rescued, but his memories are broken as well as his trust. As he struggles to accept who he used to be there still is an enemy lurking in the shadows. Moments of Blackhawk, but its not the focus. Friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Lie To Me**

_This is it! The third installment of the _**Your Lie**_ universe! This is sadly a work in progress. Mostly because I don't have it all written out…it's all plotted though…it's just a matter of me writing it all out. I have a pretty hectic schedule so I can't promise my updates will be as fast as my normal pace. I'm thinking one post per week. _

_Support is appreciated! Also if someone wants to be my beta for this that would be highly appreciated. I have tough classes this semester and I don't know how much time I'm going to have to reread my work and catch everything (and my grammar could use work even if I reread things ^^)_

_Thanks so much! I hope the wait was worth it! _

* * *

**Chapter One**

They stayed up on the roof for hours. Clint hadn't spoken to them the entire time and he was grateful that they didn't push him to talk. Behind him Clint heard low voices and on some level he knew he was the topic of discussion, but he didn't particularly care what was being said. Instead he sat near the edge of the roof, as far away from the strangers as possible and watched the sky.

The stars were brilliant. Like tiny light bulbs punched through black and blue painted paper. It wasn't like he didn't know stars were made of plasma and held together by gravity – or something like that. He knew the facts; he'd just never seen it with his own eyes. At least not since he'd lost his memory.

Now that Clint had witnessed life outside of concrete walls he was less willing to give it up. The idea of going back inside made his heart hurt even though the night air had chilled him to his core. What if they never let him outside again?

"Damn it's cold." He heard someone announce behind him, but Clint didn't turn around to see who it was. Vaguely he realized he must be cold if he couldn't match names to voices. It had been easy for him to remember names and faces before.

"Clint, are you cold? Maybe we should go inside?" It was Tony, Clint decided. The owner of the voice was male and had too much confidence to be Dr. Banner.

He shivered in reply but didn't move to stand up.

"We could always come back up here tomorrow." Stark persisted. "You know, when it's not freezing as hell."

"I was under the impression that hell was hot." Clint replied flatly.

There were a few snickers before Tony responded. "How would I know? I've never been to hell. The point is we should go inside where humans live."

Clint sighed and he was surprised when he could see his breathe. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to go back indoors. He looked behind him and saw three worried faces. Well, two worried faces and Natasha who seemed like an expert at hiding her true feelings.

"Fine." He responded and moved to stand. He lost balance rather spectacularly as the world tilted at an awkward angle. Hands appeared and helped him stay upright as Clint's world righted it's self. "Thanks." He mumbled and looked back into Natasha's concerned eyes. Maybe she wasn't as good at masking her emotions as Clint thought. Or maybe for some reason she didn't care if he saw what she was really feeling.

Or maybe he just knew her more than he could remember.

"You may have stood up too quickly." The doctor suggested with a wince. "Or you could be experiencing the first signs of withdrawal."

"I'm not taking any more pills." Clint growled and Dr. Banner seemed to accept it.

"I'm not saying that you have to, but we need to flush your system with water. It'll shorten the rather unpleasant experience."

Clint's eyes dropped down. "I'd rather be alone." He announced softly and Natasha stepped back to give him space. "I mean, is there a room – you said I lived here?" He glanced at Tony imploringly.

"Your room, right!" Tony clapped his hands together loudly and Clint flinched back as the sharp sound assaulted his ears. "Sorry. I know what it's like to have a killer hangover."

Dr. Banner frowned deeply. "Withdrawal is far more serious than a hangover, Tony."

"I'll live." Clint shrugged and Natasha, for some reason, smiled. "What?" He asked her curiously as they started to lead him back inside.

"Nothing." She said but her smile barely faded. "You just sounded like 'you' again." She shrugged a shoulder and they walked down the stairs to the elevator. Clint hesitated and fidgeted. "Is there another way down?" He asked. Although he was fairly sure that his former self didn't mind using the elevator he wasn't particularly fond of how cramped it was.

"Um." Stark fumbled but nodded. "Yeah, there's the emergency stairway." He pointed towards a door. "Regulations and all that, every building has one."

"We'll meet you guys down there." Natasha announced and moved to open the door. Clint dropped his head a bit and followed, silently relieved that no one had really commented.

Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner both remained in the elevator as Natasha lead the way down the first flight of stairs.

"I'm sorry." Clint spoke after a while.

Natasha looked back at him as she paused for him to catch up. "You don't have to explain." She offered kindly.

"No, I – I just felt closed in." He shrugged and avoided her gaze. For some reason he wanted to talk to her, but he didn't know why. Maybe it was like with Reese. There was something about her that drew him in. "Trapped. Was I – uh, claustrophobic before?"

"No." Natasha answered – there was no pain. Maybe it had gone away, Clint thought to himself. Maybe whatever the chemical had done had been cured. Maybe he no longer could tell if people were telling the truth.

Clint honestly wouldn't miss the 'gift' at all.

When Clint didn't respond Natasha continued. "Actually you quite enjoyed wandering around in the air ducts."

"Is that even safe?" Clint asked with his eyebrows knit together with question. They both continued their slow decent as Clint fell in step beside the redhead.

"You were really good at it." Natasha informed him with a wink. "It was a handy skill for what we do."

Clint swallowed thickly and stopped on his step. Natasha looked back at him curiously and he forced himself to talk. "What is it that we do?" He asked as he felt beads of sweat break out on his forehead.

Natasha looked almost sympathetic as her mask crumbled. "You are an Agent of SHIELD."

"SHIELD? And what does an agent of SHIELD do?" Clint's eyes narrowed as his heart twisted in anticipation.

"We do a variety of different things." Natasha answered lightly. The back of Clint's mind prickled, but it wasn't painful – not yet.

"Please?" Clint just wanted an answer. Preferably a truthful one not that he could tell anymore.

"We're spies. Assassins." Natasha answered.

There it was. Affirmation. Reese wasn't the first person he had killed. His heart bleed silently, maybe he didn't want to remember who he was before.

"Okay." Clint answered, too tired to deal with the revelation in the moment.

Natasha looked skeptical. "We killed those who threatened the safety of others." She told him, there was that prickling feeling again. It made Clint think that she was skirting around the truth, but in what direction?

He shook his head and brushed past her silently.

They continued without further conversation, which was acceptable to Clint. Eventually Natasha whistled to alert him that he was about the pass by the correct door.

They exited the stairway and Clint was surprised to see a rather homey looking room. Large floor to ceiling windows lined the wall and the open space had couches and a large flat screen TV.

Natasha caught his eyes after he thoroughly looked around the room. "This is the living area, we share it."

"We? Mr. Stark, the doctor and you?"

"And Captain America," Natasha added. "And a demi god."

"A – what?" Clint's jaw dropped.

"Well, when he visits." Stark joined their conversation easily as he and Dr. Banner entered the space. "He actually lives off world."

"Off world." Clint repeated with a deep frown. That was a lie. It had to be. It also answered his unanswered questions. Clint sighed at the realization; they were all lying to him. Clint's eyes dropped as he let the truth sink in. At least the lies didn't hurt like the truth had. Maybe it was for the best that they weren't telling him the truth.

Still, everything had felt almost right, up until now. Gods on other worlds – it was a bold lie with blinking neon lights.

"Tony, don't overwhelm him." The doctor scorned lightly before he offered a smile to Clint. "Your room is just down this way."

"It's across from mine." Natasha added as the group headed in that direction.

Clint nodded, but didn't feel relieved at the idea of sleeping across the hall from a killer. Were they all SHIELD assassins? Dr. Banner didn't really look like the killing type – but what did Clint know?

He frowned when he remembered she had been lying – there had been no pain, after all, so maybe none of them were killers after all. Well except for him. He killed Reese with his bare hands.

Clint was confused.

"Here we are." Tony announced and stood on the other side of the door. The others gave Clint space to open the door himself.

Nervously Clint reached out and turned the knob. Inside Clint looked around the space that was supposedly his. There was little to no personal looking items – at least nothing that a normal person would have. Well, what Clint believed should be normal.

The room they had walked into was large and open with one wall made of huge windows that over looked the city. Two rooms were visible off to the right from where he stood. One appeared to have an arsenal of weaponry and the other was a simple bedroom. The bedspread was black and like in the main room it had a floor to ceiling window overlooking the city. It was breathtaking. Much more open than his cement cell had been before.

More and more Clint was at a loss of what to believe. Randle's threats weren't realized. Clint still had what little memories he had managed to gather and his life seemed to be improving instead of his freedoms being taken away.

Carefully Clint looked around the space. There were no personal pictures to prove his friendship with these people but a few abstract paintings of bird feathers.

"Those are an inside joke." Stark informed him when Clint's eyes lingered. "You refused to decorate so I got Pepper to order these for you."

Clint frowned and turned back to him. "Pepper?" He caught the tone when Stark said the name – loss. Maybe a girlfriend who died? Or wife?

"Um, old girlfriend." Tony answered. Once again there was a prickling sensation in the back of Clint's mind.

"Okay." Clint accepted quietly.

Dr. Banner stepped closer again. "You need to drink a lot of water. I'm not sure what exactly they had you on but I suspect that the withdrawal isn't going to be pretty simply by the amount of drugs in your system."

"I'll handle it." Clint replied. "I'd like to be alone, though."

"Are you sure?" Stark asked with concern.

"Clint," Doctor Banner spoke hesitantly. "I know that what you went through was traumatic, but you don't need to do this alone. We can help you."

"I just – " Clint looked away stubbornly. "I don't know who to trust." He admitted.

In the reflection of the glass window he saw the group exchange looks.

"If you need us, just ask Jarvis." Stark finally spoke up.

Confusion slipped over Clint's expression again as he turned to look at them once more. "Jarvis?" He asked with a lost sigh. "Is that the demi god?"

"Certainly not, Agent Barton." A male British voice filled the room and Clint jumped violently.

"The hell?" He yelped and looked around – no one new had entered the room.

"My apologies, Agent Barton, it was not my intention to frighten you." Jarvis's voice sounded again.

"Oh yeah, you don't remember." Stark said. He actually sounded remorseful for overlooking – whatever was happening. "That's my AI. Jarvis. He's like a butler but not. Ask him anything and he'll answer you."

"Can – " Clint swallowed and took a minute to look at each of them. "Can I? Please, I just want to be alone."

Even Natasha looked crestfallen after his request.

"Alright, Clint." Natasha spoke after a long pause. "We will leave you alone, but if you need us for anything just ask Jarvis. He can tell you where we are or he can call us to come help you."

"I would be happy to assist you." The British voice spoke again.

"Yeah, fine." Clint responded and took a step back, he felt crowded again.

Reluctantly Natasha shooed the other two out of Clint's 'room' and finally he was alone.

Clint looked at the door as it closed and his eyes lit up when he saw the lock. Immediately he stepped forward to slip the lock into place. Before Clint hadn't been able to choose who came and went into his room; this was a nice change. Although Clint was certain that the people beyond the door could get inside his room if they tried, it was nice to have some semblance of protection.

Alone Clint looked around his apartment once more.

Nothing felt personal to him. He walked into the arsenal room and glanced at the different weapons mounted on the three walls inside. There were three bows mounted, two sniper rifles, one shotgun, several handguns and a small but impressive collection of knives – all of which he knew the names to and what caliber of bullets they required but had no memory of when or why they were purchased.

There were a few cases stacked and several boxes – all filled with ammo.

"Fuck." He cursed to himself. He really was an assassin – spy, whatever.

Did that mean they were telling the truth? A demi-god, really? Clint's head felt like it was about to explode.

That or all these weapons were planted, but who would do that? It wasn't exactly safe to give someone the ability to defend themselves in a hostile situation. Not that Clint was sure he'd be able to use any of the equipment.

Nausea made itself known and suddenly all Clint wanted to do was lay down until everything went away. With a heavy heart he left the weapons room as he entered it and closed the door so he wouldn't be reminded of how easy it had been for him to snap Reese's neck.

Clint moved into his bedroom and without much exploring lay down on the bed.

* * *

_I've missed you guys! ^^_


	2. Chapter 2

**Lie To Me**

_I've got a beta! Chris is awesome. Bow to Chris ^^ Any mistakes that remain are still mine ^^_ _Thanks Chris!_

_Special thanks to all my reviewers!: __**sv4me**__ (I miss you too! There are lots of Clintasha moments ^^ Some chapters have more of it than others ^^ On of my personal favorites is in chapter three! ^^), __**kimbee **__(YAY! I'm excited you're excited! It makes me even more excited about writing the rest of it and seeing your reactions! ^^), __**Jaguarspot**__ (Well, a little bit longer, but I hope you'll see why ^^), __**chris. **__ (I'm excited! Thanks for betaing!), __**ZhaLenn**__ (I'm glad you were looking forward to it! I hope it lives up to expectations! Feel free to hug Clint, he probably needs one ^^), __**discordchick**__ (Ah, that's so cool! You reread my stuff ^^ I'm like beaming right now ^^ BTW it was confirmed that Clint is going to be in Avengers II and he's going to have a bigger part ^^ Joss said that Clint was his favorite character he wrote in the script! I'm so excited! I just hope he gets a cameo or at least mentioned in the upcoming films ^^), __**jpgFury**__ (It's really cool to see so many still interesting in my series! I feel bad for taking this long to put it up ^^ Thanks for the interest!), __**Hawaiichick**__ (I'm happy too! I love vulnerable Clint the most ^^)_

_On to reading! Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

To say the Avengers were concerned about Clint Barton would be a colossal understatement.

Tony and Steve paced around the living area like expecting fathers and Bruce found himself performing his meditation more often than usual. Natasha was the only one of them who remained still – deadly so.

"Jarvis, update?" Tony's voice tore through the silence.

"Agent Barton's heart rate has elevated, he's been actively nauseous three times since last you inquired and he appears to be in distress." The AI responded dutifully.

The announcement did nothing to settle the Avengers feelings of concern.

"This is ridiculous, we need to help him." Bruce pointed out and stood.

"We can't." Natasha snapped but made no move to stop them. Instead she remained as still as a statue. "We can only go if he asks. If we go before that he'll never trust us."

"There's still a chance he could regain his memory." Bruce pointed out with sudden stubbornness. "Right now we need to make sure he lives that long."

"He'll be fine." Natasha insisted. "He's done this before."

Tony blinked and sunk into the nearest chair with uncharacteristic silence.

"Natasha?" It was Steve who spoke up. His hand rubbed his chin with worry. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. He's dealt with withdrawals in the past and he prefers to go off cold turkey." Natasha ignored the fact that she was now the focus of the room. "He said it was his choice after he had no choice."

"So, the drugs he got off before," Steve started as he joined Tony on the couch. "It was forced on him that time as well?"

"Yes." Natasha nodded.

"A mission that went wrong and Clint was taken by a drug dealer. They had him for a week before Coulson and I managed to rescue him."

"What – "

"It was a mixture of narcotics – Clint's control was stripped away. When he came off of the drugs he made all the calls and the doctors respected his wishes – it helped him cope. It also helped him stay on track after."

Steve looked contemplative but it was Bruce who spoke up next. "So that's why he's so against painkillers. Even in serious conditions."

Natasha didn't make any indications either way, but Tony could guess that Bruce was right.

"Okay, so we wait it out." Tony grumbled unhappily. "But we don't have to like it."

"No." Natasha agreed and the room fell silent once more.

* * *

Clint drank water as often as he could, but it didn't seem to help relieve how shitty he felt.

Though he wasn't entirely sure what symptoms came with withdrawal Clint almost wished he had let Dr. Banner help him through it about three hours in. His stubbornness kept his mouth shut instead of asking Jarvis to tell the others he needed them.

In his mind Clint thought he might die before this ended. Clint also thought darkly that he deserved it. When the pain and the sickness weren't overwhelming him, the guilt returned. He'd killed someone – even if she wasn't exactly a good person, it was still murder.

His body shook and his stomach cramped but the worse part was the hallucinations. They haunted his dreams even when he thought he was awake.

_Clint stood center stage in front of a crowd filled with screams and cheers for someone called Hawkeye. The spotlight spilt over his body and he lifted an arm to greet the people before focusing on his intended targets._

_There were twenty round wooden circles set up around the performance area. Each target was located in impossibly difficult angles._

_He drew back the string, nocked an_ _arrow and let it fly. Again and again he made the movements with practiced grace – each arrow hit dead center on its intended target._

_The crowd went wild._

Clint rolled off his bed but remained curled on the floor. He huddled close as he shivered. What an odd dream, Clint thought to himself as his eyes slid closed once more. Especially since his own attempt with the bow had gone so terribly wrong. Who was he dreaming about? Why did it feel so familiar?

His mind floated away once more.

_She was in his sights now. Finally the world-renowned Black Widow had dropped her guard. It wasn't so unexpected that as soon as she paused in his crosshairs that she bolted forward. He watched with the scope and tightened his pressure on the trigger before he stopped himself._

_Clint watched as the most infamous and ruthless killer tackled a young girl out of the street just before a truck sped by. After a quick glance Clint glared deeply, the truck driver had been texting, the little girl would have been struck if it weren't for the Widow's actions._

_She exposed herself to save a child from certain death. Clint_ _hesitated again as he watched the redhead talk to the girl after. The moment ended and Clint still hadn't taken the shot, but a mission was a mission._

Clint blinked his eyes open and found himself in the bathroom attached to the bedroom he'd been in. He was huddled in the corner of the tub while cool water sprayed down on to him. Clint didn't remember moving, but he was alone as far as he could see.

He wasn't sure how he got there. Hadn't he been somewhere else? On a rooftop about to kill – Natasha? That girl, he wasn't sure what was happening anymore. Just that he was weak, tired and cold.

_Clint looked up and things flashed in and out of focus. He stayed huddled where he was but the room changed. There was a man with him although he didn't really look like he was entirely there._

"_Coulson?" He found himself saying even though he had no idea what was happening or who the man was._

"_You were reckless and nearly got yourself and your team killed. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The man in the suit yelled._

"_Got the job done, didn't I?" Clint mumbled back softly._

_The scene changed again; faded in and faded out._

_Clint punched a stranger in the face. The man was uniformed but not military – some weapons dealer's soldier. Someone swiped at him with a knife and Clint easily disarmed him. After a small tussle Clint found himself opening a door._

_There in the center of the room was a woman with red hair curtained over her face. She looked beaten and bloodied but Clint didn't hesitate as he moved forward. A knife appeared in his hand and he cut her free._

"_Took you long enough." The battered woman whispered, her eyes still closed as she dipped forward._

"_Traffic was a bitch." Clint responded and gathered her up in his arms._

There was that girl again. Natasha. She seemed to be there in his dreams a lot. It was the third one that he could remember that had been about her. Maybe she was real, maybe they did know each other. They had obviously been through a lot, but why had he tried to kill her? Clint managed to drink some water before he slipped away again.

_This dream starred Dr. Banner. It wasn't long but it was terrifying. One minute the mild mannered doctor was normal and human and the next he roared and his skin started to bubble and morph into a green beast._

_The beast turned and roared in Clint's direction. He froze. No, he raised his hand and started to speak. "Hulk, it's just me – "_

_Dr. Banner – the Hulk, apparently didn't want to listen though. In rage the beast picked up a nearby car and Clint felt himself gasp and take a step back._

"_Wait – let's talk about this!" Clint yelped and moved to dodge the flying vehicle when the green giant tossed it in his direction._

That one had to be a dream, Clint thought as he came back to consciousness. There was no way that could have been real. Maybe none of this was real after all. He groaned and managed to crawl out of the tub and back to the bed before another nightmare took over.

_Clint screamed as his leg snapped cleanly under the power of his opponents boot. He growled and hissed before rolling out of the way of a second hit. He bounced up and balanced carefully as he dodged a third attack. He screamed as he was pushed down again but managed to hit something solid as he fell._

_When he hit the ground his hand slipped in something wet. When he looked Clint saw the sticky red blood staining his fingers. It was surreal as he turned and saw the body. A man that had his throat slashed from ear to ear._

Clint heaved violently as he came back to himself. He leaned over the bed as he dry heaved for several minutes. The blood had covered his hands. There had been so much of it. The visions of the bodies didn't stop now that he was back in his room. Instead they piled around his bed. The bodies were people with arrows sprouting out of their eyes, ears and hearts. The dead – his kills, Clint realized and heaved again until his vision went black from not being able to breathe.

When Clint came back to himself he decided that he couldn't handle who he used to be. Not anymore. He didn't want that much blood on his hands and he definitely didn't want to add to it. If he had been an assassin he didn't want to remember all the faces of the people he had killed. Good or bad he couldn't stand the idea that he'd killed Reese let alone countless others.

His heart sunk and he pushed the memories that had surfaced as far back as possible. He was still in the throes of withdrawal but nearing the end of the torture. The cramps in his stomach weren't nearly as violent as they had been and his mind felt clearer than it ever had been – even if it felt like an elephant was currently sitting on it.

* * *

The wait was hard. It had been two days since Clint shut himself inside his room. Two long days that their friend had to suffer alone. Tony still had Jarvis give them updates and ordered his AI to inform them if Clint's condition got critical. Tony could live with Clint's lost of trust as long as Clint lived through this hell-like situation.

No one relaxed, even though Clint stayed stable enough. They remained together in the common room, but didn't bother with small talk – not when all their minds were so focused on their friend's health.

Tony couldn't help but think that everything that was happening was his fault. Clint would have never left the tower if Tony hadn't thrown him out. Fury would have never sent him on that mission.

Pepper still would have betrayed him. Clint still would have come clean – that was Clint, after all. The martyr. The self-sacrificing douche-bag Tony couldn't picture his life without.

Still, Tony could have heard Clint out.

No, because that wasn't Tony. Tony was the type to act fast and irrational. He had perfected the art of pushing people away and acted out of anger and emotion. Clint had done the right thing and was now being punished for it. Tony had done the wrong thing and now someone else was paying the price.

"Stop that." Natasha's sharp voice drew Tony's eyes to her. Steve and Bruce were looking at her too with curious eyes. Natasha's attention was focused on Stark.

"What?" Tony asked finally.

"Blaming yourself isn't going to change what's happening." Natasha told him. "It isn't going to make you feel better or help Clint. Strip those thoughts from your mind and move on. The past is over; all we have is the future. Focus your mind on making him as comfortable as possible. Or, if you want to be even more helpful, try to figure out a way to make him remember what he's forgotten."

Bruce shook his head. "How? We went through the information we were able to gather from the compound. There was no useful information. Nothing on the process or any kind of drugs used as a memory suppressant. Even his toxicology report came back with a ton of question marks."

"We'll know more when we can talk to him." Tony tried to become more positive. Clint was alive, for now that was all that mattered. "He'll remember. Somehow. And if not, we'll deal with it."

Steve nodded. "We'll built back his trust, that's the most important thing right now."

"Hopefully that's possible." Natasha leaned back in her chair. "After everything he went through – all the things we don't know."

"Trust first." Tony agreed with Steve. "Answers later."

* * *

_Depression has come to me in the form of a writing stall. Blame the intensity of my classes. However, the next two chapters are written and you will be getting them next Friday and the Friday after that. Hopefully by then I'll have more written for you guys. Again, it's all plotted out and such, it's just finding time to write it…_

_Encouragement is awesome ^^_

_Reviews are love ^^_


	3. Chapter 3

_Lie To Me_

_Hey, so this is not the edited version. I mean, I read over it…but my beta hasn't gotten to it yet. Well, Chris did but there were complications because of technology and travel and all that fun stuff. I'm busy this weekend but I wanted to get this to you guys before I vanished from the internet for the next couple days. _

_I will replace this chapter with the edited version either Saturday night or Sunday. _

_Special thanks to those who reviewed for the last chapter: _

_**ZhaLenn**__ (It's finally Friday! I'm excited for you! I hope you enjoy!), __**Qweb **__(Yay! I look forward to your reviews! You rock!), __**kimbee **__(Poor Clint, I put him through some serious crap and he is rather confused. Poor guy! Thanks for the cheers! I have the fifth chapter written and I started on the sixth. I do have a test this week so that'll put things on hold, but I'm excited! Lots of fun stuff coming up!), __**discordchick **__(You'll like this chapter because it has my favorite Clintasha moment in it! So cute! Thanks for reviewing!), __**jpgFury **__(I agree with you wholeheartedly, it's a terrible situation I've developed! Thanks for your encouragement! It helped so much! I've written chapter five! Yay! Onto chapter six ^^), __**Boooyakasha **__(Ooo, I love hearing from new readers! Thanks so much for picking this up! I'm so happy you picked out the "no shit Sherlock" I felt very clever when I wrote that ^^ Thanks so much for the review! You are awesome!), __**jaguarspot **__(I'm glad you like it! I figured he wouldn't want to remember from the flashes he's had so far! Thanks for the review!), __**Hawaiichick **__(Poor Clint and his dilemma that I've created. I feel bad, seriously! Although it's too much fun to quit now! I'm glad you are enjoying! I hope you like the new chapter!)_

_Sorry if there were typo's in my responses…I'm rushed! You guys are awesome! _

* * *

_**Chapter Three**_

Clint woke to the sound of rain as it broke against the window that painted the cityscape before him. He was curled up on the couch but unsure of when or why he'd moved out of the bedroom. Or for that matter the bathroom.

His fever had broken sometime during the night. He hadn't remembered anything after the bodies had appeared around him. For that Clint was grateful. He shut it down. The memories weren't worth remembering, Clint didn't want to be that person – if that was even who he used to be.

It was better if the memories stayed locked away. Now Clint had a chance of a fresh start. Perhaps he could even make up for the lives he took, or at least he could try.

Slowly Clint sat up on the couch and ran a hand over his face. He needed to shave, he decided silently. His body was sore, but the worse of it had passed. A shower might be a good idea as well.

Clint's mind felt clearer than it ever had and his body was as light as a feather. He almost felt like he could fly, but Clint knew better than to try.

For a moment Clint thought he might be high on some kind of drug – it took a moment to realize this is what it felt to be off drugs.

Ever since he'd woken up he'd felt heavy and weighed down by something. His head had been in a fog and everything had been bouncy and unstable. Now the heavy feeling he had felt all along was gone and he could see clearly. His senses were pin sharp and everything was steady – Clint was grateful.

His eyes were alert and his vision was sharp as he looked around the room. The colors were brighter, Clint noted. Everything felt so much more in focus than it had before. The clarity was amazing and Clint inhaled a fresh breath of relief as he sat there and took everything in as if it were the first time.

Clint's body still shivered from the after effects of the withdrawal, but for the most part he felt like he was more together than he ever had been. Well, at least as far as he could remember.

Amnesia sucked out loud.

With a sigh Clint stood and made his way to the bathroom again. He had to walk through the bedroom and the smell of sickness and sweat told him why he wanted to sleep on the couch. With a wince Clint avoided the puddles of mysterious content on the otherwise pristine carpet and slipped into the bathroom.

Carefully Clint stripped out of his shirt, which was more or less plastered to his sweat soaked body. He looked at himself in the mirror then. Clint's face was pale and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He looked down from his face to his chest and his heart froze. Faded splotches of dark purple and healing green appeared on his skin from where Randle had punched him.

The punches had been deserved and Clint felt shame as he touched them gently with his fingers. Reese may have not been good, but she hadn't deserved to die like that. Cruel and senseless – Clint couldn't take something that permanent back.

With a heavy sigh Clint leaned over and turned on the shower with ease. The water started to warm as Clint pulled off the sweatpants and boxers and folded them along with the shirt and left them on the counter with the sink.

When he stepped under the spray Clint groaned softly and enjoyed the warmth the water provided. He vaguely remembered spending some time in the shower during his fevered delirium, but the water had been cold then. The steam filled the space around Clint as he enjoyed the bliss of the water over his naked skin.

After his shower and a quick shave, Clint poked around his room for fresh clothes. Boxers he found in a drawer easy enough. Jeans were folded in the next one down. A few shirts were hung in the closet and Clint looked through them with disinterest and pulled down a simple black shirt that looked comfortable enough.

Once dressed Clint walked back out into the living area and paused at his door. Should he go out and face the people who claimed to know him? Or should he stay where it was safe?

Clint knew it would be easier to hide away, but he was hungry and his apartment held no food.

The sound of his stomach's growl was enough to give Clint the courage to unlatch the lock and open his door. Half way down the hallway Clint felt far more exhausted than he thought he should. The withdrawal had left him a little weak on his feet. When he entered the shared area of the – what had Mr. Stark called it? Avengers Tower – Clint blinked back his surprise. Apparently the others had camped out there ever since Clint locked himself away.

Mr. Stark was asleep, sprawled out on a couch. Dr. Banner and another man Clint didn't recognize were also asleep on the floor and Natasha was curled in a chair, her eyes were on him.

"Hi." Clint croaked, his voice dry and gravely with disuse. Suddenly Clint was very aware of how tired he was and leaned heavily against the doorframe he was standing near.

"Hi." Natasha echoed with a calculated once over. Stark startled awake and in turn the others stirred.

"Clint?" Mr. Stark asked and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. "How'ya doing buddy?"

Clint resisted a step back, but didn't answer right away. His eyes landed on the strange face among them. He tried to place if he'd ever seen the man before.

The blond blinked back in confusion before a look of dawning washed over his face. "Oh, yeah – I'm Steve Rogers." He held out his hand quickly, awkwardly.

"Captain America." Clint recalled as he shook the offered hand, more from some obscure fact in his brain than a clear memory.

Mr. Rogers' eyes lit up. "You remember?"

"No." Clint answered just as disappointed as he made the stranger look. "I'm sorry." He added tiredly. "Are we friends?"

"Yes." Rogers nodded with a smile that looked more like a wince. "Friends and teammates."

"The Avengers." Clint recalled.

Natasha nodded and gave him a smile of encouragement. "Yes, that's right."

Clint suddenly felt like a child. He rolled his eyes and shifted awkwardly in front of the group. "Is there somewhere I can get something to eat?" He asked and dropped his eyes back to the floor.

"Sure." Dr. Banner piped up first. "I could – we could cook something. Anything you'd like."

"I – " Clint hesitated. "I'm not sure what I like. You guys can choose." Compared to the other place he'd been, this place was nicer. Clint was open to going with the flow. Especially now after he'd been given choices. It felt better. Even if Clint still was unsure of everything, this felt right.

Dr. Banner smiled and waved him to follow. Clint hesitated for a moment and eyed the others in the room before trailing after Banner. Suddenly Clint had the irrational fear that the doctor might slip something in the food. Clint never wanted to take drugs again if he could help it. Life felt too good being free of the drug-drag.

"Would you like to help?" Dr. Banner asked with a kind smile. The memory of Clint's hallucination flashed through his mind. The doctor turning into a terrible green monster – it couldn't be true.

Clint shrugged. "What do I do?"

Banner motioned him forward and handed him a knife that felt comfortable in Clint's hand. "Cut up these cherry tomatoes," Banner instructed with a smile. "And I'll prepare the lettuce. Natasha, can you get the Italian dressing out of the refrigerator and the feta cheese?"

Clint set about his task, which was easy enough. He cut the cherry tomatoes in half and glanced at Bruce when he was finished. "Is there anything else I can do to help?" He offered.

Banner smiled, setting a pot of water to boil on the stove. "Sure, um, you could cut the feta into cubes if you want. You always did."

Clint froze. "I've helped cook before?"

"Yes." Banner smiled and poured some pasta into the boiling water. "This is your recipe. Farfalle salad."

Gently Clint set the knife down, unsure. He didn't remember ever cooking before.

"You made it for us after a battle once." The doctor continued. Suddenly Clint didn't feel so hungry anymore. "Clint? Are you okay?"

"I – um, I think I'm going to sit down." Clint whispered. Natasha was quick to take his elbow and guide him around the counter to a seat. Banner watched with worried eyes and Clint ducked to avoid them.

"I'm sorry," The doctor offered. "I didn't mean to push anything. I just – I guess I was trying to make small talk."

Clint swallowed thickly. "It's fine. I'm just a little – " He shook his head and let out a sad laugh. "I really have no idea what I am."

Banner bit his lip lightly before he refocused on making the salad. "You've just gone through withdrawals cold turkey, you also just went through some kind of hell." He smiled and Clint felt as if it was genuine. "It's okay to feel like crap right now. We understand. Just sit back and this will be done in a few minutes."

"He's right." Natasha agreed and slid into the chair next to Clint. "We're here for you, if you want us."

Clint sighed. That was what Reese had promised. She said that she wanted to help him and to be his friend.

"So." Clint spoke after a few awkward moments of silence. "I cook?"

Natasha smiled next to him. A bright smile – it took Clint a bit by surprise. "Without you we'd all live off of takeout and curry."

"Really?" Clint asked. He didn't exactly feel like he was the cooking type.

She smiled kindly and bumped his shoulder like an old friend. "Yes, but don't worry. Bruce has learned plenty under your tutelage. We won't starve any time soon."

They were silent again as the doctor strained the pasta and mixed all the ingredients into a large bowl. Clint thought it was nice how all the different things came together so easily. The salad that was placed in front of him was fresher than anything he'd received at the other place.

Shyly Clint picked up the fork offered to him and speared at some of the pasta and took a bite. It was good. Suddenly another fork appeared and stole one of his tomatoes and Clint frowned at the culprit next to him.

Natasha smiled back and popped the red fruit into her mouth before he could say a word.

They both chewed their mouthfuls and swallowed and finally Natasha explained. "You don't like tomatoes."

Clint frowned and speared another half of red fruit and looked at it. "I don't?" He studied the object in question curiously. Instead of taking her word at face value Clint took a bite out of the tomato and winced at the flavor of juices and the over all unpleasant texture. "Yeah," he agreed and swallowed it down thickly. "I don't think I do."

* * *

In the other room Tony and Steve stood worriedly together. "It was a good idea to stay out of the way." Steve told his pale friend.

"He's clearly freaked out." Tony shrugged. "Crowding him isn't going to help anyone. I just want everything to be okay again."

Steve cleared his throat and shook his head. "I'm not sure if it will be any time soon. Without any real knowledge of how he lost his memory we can't really be sure how to help him regain it." Steve hesitated and shook his head. "He had no idea who I was at all, at least he dreamed about you and Natasha."

"Bruce found some odd stuff in the scans we took when he first got to the tower. That glowy spot was wild, but we have no idea what it means. Bruce thinks they woke that part of his brain up, but why would his memories be gone?"

"Maybe the unidentified drugs did that?" Steve suggested, although he was clearly only guessing.

"You might be right, but if that's true why doesn't he remember us now?" Tony wondered out loud. "The drugs should be out of his system, so he should be able to remember, but he clearly doesn't."

Steve shrugged. "We'll figure this out. Even if it seems impossible, right now we need to show him he can trust us."

"Those people, how they treated him. Like a lab rat, using his whole memory-loss as an advantage. It's sickening." Tony's anger bubbled to the surface. "He'd never seen the sky before, Steve. Those bastards didn't even let him outside. We have to make sure we treat him better – he deserves better."

"I thought I might take him for a walk when he feels better." Steve announced. "Take him to the park we used to run to in the morning. Maybe it'll jog some memories?"

"Good idea." Tony agreed. "We should all think of things like that. Bruce's idea of cooking was good thinking, I don't know if it worked though." The billionaire's eyes turned back towards the kitchen.

Steve placed a hand on his friends shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. "He'll be okay. We'll work things out."

"Yeah, I know." Tony sighed. "Steve, do you think he'll forgive me?"

Steve looked back at his friend with knowing eyes. "Have you forgiven him?"

Tony looked away and shook his head. "He didn't do anything wrong. It just took me too long to realize that. He told the truth and paid the price for it. It was Pepper who I should have been mad at all along. She's the only one who betrayed me that day."

"You had a right to be upset at him as well, you know that, right?" Steve asked warily. "It all went to hell, yes, but you had your heart broken and he was the messenger of the worse news of your life. He'll understand."

"I hope your right." Tony sighed. "I remembered his facial expression when he opened the door. Just before he disappeared. He looked afraid, like I was going to attack him or something."

"Or break his cover." Steve chuckled. "You weren't exactly supposed to be there."

Tony managed a small smile. "True. I'm not known for my subtly, but still I betrayed his trust too. I just hope I can win it back."

Steve nodded. "Helping him through this will help your friendship afterwards. Just be true to yourself and to him. I know we'll get through this if we all work together to help him."

* * *

_Thanks for the encouragement! You guys are awesome. _

_Reviews are loved ^^_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Lie To Me**_

_Hey guys! So this chapter isn't beta edited either, which is sad, but totally okay because I know my beta Chris is traveling and busy! So, any mistakes are my fault and I shall let you guys know when the edited version is up by changing this paragraph. Right here. ^^_

_The next two chapters are written! So excitement there. Also this is one of my favorite chapters…but come to think of it they all are favorite chapters. ^^ I'm having a lot of fun writing this. I aced my test yesterday so I'll have time to write more this weekend! _

_Thanks so much to those who reviewed: __**Qweb**__ (Thanks so much! I love that they are trying to get him comfortable with them ^^ Friendship, ground zero ^^), __**Kitkat286**__ (Thanks so much! I hope you loved the rest too!), __**jaguarspot**__ (Hehe, you know me well. We've got some fluff left before things go to hell though. ^^ And some angst ^^), __**kimbee**__ (That is such a compliment! That makes me smile so big you have no idea! I love your reviews, they always make me want to read more too ^^), __**ZhaLenn**__ (That was my favorite scene! I personally hate tomatoes so I indulged a bit with Clint's character ^^ Glad you liked it!), __**discordchick**__ (I dislike tomatoes as well. Taste and texture, I just don't get them ^^ Thanks for the review!), __**jpgFury**__ (Yay for Psychic-ness! I'm thrilled you enjoyed the chapter! Clint and Banner cooking was so much fun to write!), __**sv4me **__(Thanks for reviewing for both chapters! That makes me so happy! I'm glad you like the story! The next chapter is HERE!), __**Alanna Beckett**__ (Thanks for the review…even if it wasn't really for this story! I'll work on it when I get a chance…which might not be for a while…because I have this Avengers fic and then another one I started ^^)_

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

Clint had finally made his choice after the second day with the Avengers. He liked them more than he ever did Reese or Randle. None of them gave him the same uneasiness that Randle had stirred inside his gut. They all acted genuine – like Reese had – which made him feel secure, at least.

He still feared that everything would go to hell at some point. Still, Clint's life was far better with them. They let him go about his business as he pleased and didn't push him with experimental questions that made his head hurt and his nosebleed. They treated him like a friend and only hovered if they were worried about his health.

The first day after the withdrawals subsided was mostly spent regaining his strength by eating food and resting. The Avengers gave him space, but were always around if Clint needed. It was nice, but it also drove Clint back to his room fairly quickly. None of them tried to enter Clint's room without permission. Everyone knocked at the door and went away if Clint refused to answer.

The second day was a lot like the first, but a little easier. He had casual conversations with each of his self-proclaimed friends and learned a bit more about them. Still, Clint hid in his room when he wasn't hungry or lonely.

It was the third day when Steve approached him after breakfast. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me on a walk?"

"Outside?" Clint perked up. He'd been up to the roof a few times in secret since the end of his battle with withdrawal, but never down among other people. The idea intrigued and excited him.

"Of course." Steve gave an uneasy smile that tried to mask what appeared to be nerves. "There's a park a few blocks from here, I thought you might like to see it."

"I've been there before?" Clint asked curiously. It was apparent to him that the others wanted him to remember his past – even if he didn't.

"Yes." Steve answered easily. "We used to run there together."

Although Clint had decided firmly that he didn't want to remember his past he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to go outside.

"Sure," Clint agreed and smiled shyly. "Should I wear something different?" He asked with a glance down at himself. Currently he was wearing jeans and a dark grey shirt he pulled out of his closet. He realized he probably needed shoes of some kind; currently his feet were bare. They had been ever since he could remember. He had never needed shoes before.

"Just shoes, maybe a jacket since it's kind of cold outside." Steve answered with a warm smile. "Do you know where your shoes are?"

Clint nodded. "There were some in my closet. Socks were in a drawer."

"Great, I'll wait for you at the elevator." Steve grinned and Clint couldn't help but mirror the expression. They parted ways and Clint headed back to his room quickly to grab what he needed. His boots were easy enough to find, as were his socks, but it was his jacket that alluded Clint.

With a frown he looked through his closet. A few common shirts were hung up as well as a uniform of some kind, but no jacket. Well, that wasn't true. There was a jacket with an emblem on it that looked like a bird of some sort. It didn't strike Clint as casual enough, though.

In the end Clint grabbed a sweater and pulled it over his shirt and headed out to join Mr. America. Steve. Cap, that was what Mr. Stark, Tony, called him. It was odd for Clint to call strangers by their first name. That felt too friendly. Maybe Mr. Rodgers would be acceptable, at least until Clint felt more comfortable. Or hell, until someone verbally told him to say something less formal.

Stark was at the elevator with Rogers when Clint approached. "Ah, I thought you might be missing this." Stark said and offered Clint a leather jacket.

"This is mine?" Clint asked with wide-eyes. The jacket was made up of comfortable looking worn black leather and it appeared to be about his size. This was what he'd been looking for, Clint was almost sure of it.

"Yeah," Tony nodded and handed it to Clint. "I forgot to give it back to you. You left it at the safe house before you went to talk to – " Tony hesitated and looked at Steve who seemed tenser than before. "Um. Swift."

"Swift? What was swift?" Clint took the jacket and slipped it on.

"No, Michael Swift – he's a person. A bad guy. You were investigating him when you were taken." Steve explained lightly.

Clint frowned and shook his head. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about that."

"Sure." Tony nodded. "Whatever you want, it's fine."

Clint felt skeptical but as long as they did what he wanted it seemed fine. "So, the park?" Clint pressed, too eager to go outside to wait around.

"Right, of course." Steve bumbled and glanced at Tony. "Do you want to come, Tony?"

"Nah, I have some paperwork to do for the company." Mr. Stark huffed, as if he wasn't looking forward to it. "But, I'll catch you guys later. Bruce said he was making Hawkeye's Famous Lasagna tonight. I'm excited."

Clint frowned again. "What's a Hawkeye?"

Stark and Rogers both deflated at the same time. It took a minute but Stark was the first to recover. "You're a Hawkeye." He explained badly.

Clint's frown deepened with his confusion. "I thought my name was Clint?"

"It is." Rogers reassured him. "Hawkeye is your codename. Your alias."

"Oh." Clint looked away uncomfortably. "Can we go now?" He asked when he looked back at Mr. Rogers.

"Sure." He nodded to Clint with a sad smile.

The elevator ride down left Clint jittery with nerves. He didn't like how close the walls were in the little moving box. He'd forgotten how much he hated the elevator until the door slid shut behind him.

"You okay?" Rogers asked kindly.

"I don't really care for this." He motioned around the small space.

"The elevator?" Rogers clarified. Clint nodded. "Did something happen in a elevator?"

Clint looked at him and shrugged. "Not that I remember. It's just, crowded." Clint almost laughed when Rogers took a huge step back away from him to make space.

"Better?" Rogers' asked with such sincerity Clint found himself nodding.

"Yeah." His world swayed for a moment and Clint grabbed the side of the car. "Little dizzy." He shook his head.

The elevator couldn't come to a stop faster and Clint all but bolted when they got to the ground floor. His eyes swept across the lobby of the tower and Clint was surprised at the amount of people in sight. He'd never been around so many people before. The most people he'd been around were the group of orderlies who held him down if he wasn't cooperating. Clint took a step back and bumped into Rogers.

"It's okay." Rogers told him calmly. Once again the taller man moved away to give Clint his needed space. "These people work for Tony. Stark Industries still has offices under our section of the tower. They've all been screened carefully, none of them mean us harm."

Clint wasn't so sure, but he nodded his understanding anyway and kept close to Rogers as they walked towards the revolving door that lead outside.

This version of outside was different than the roof had been. It was loud and crowded out on the sidewalk and Clint felt panicky instead of refreshed. It smelt wrong on the ground among normal city dwellers. It smelt like pollution and decay among other unpleasant things.

Everything felt too close and Clint suddenly wanted the sanctuary of the tower they'd just stepped out of.

A hand fell on his shoulder and Clint froze, his wide eyes turned back to Steve who looked concerned.

"You okay?" The taller man asked. Clint moved closer to seek any protection offered by Rogers in this strange world.

"It's just," Clint flinched when a taxi driver laid on his horn. "A lot of people."

Rogers smiled a warm smile of reassurance. "There will be less people where we're going." He promised and slowly led the way.

Clint didn't feel overly sure that he still wanted to go on the walk. He stuck close to Rogers and kept an eye out for any possible danger – even if he wasn't sure what kind of danger he was looking for.

After fifteen minutes of walking the streets finally began to become less crowded, but Clint's tension never really faded. Everything was new to him and it was quickly becoming apparent that if he were to lose Steve for whatever reason he wouldn't be able to find his way back to wherever they had come from. If only his panic hadn't blinded him maybe he would have thought to look up and memorize what the building he left looked like.

"Idiot." Clint whispered to himself. He was surprised when Rogers looked back at him with a questioning glance. "Um, sorry, I just – this is a big city." Clint finished lamely.

"I thought that way too." Rogers admitted and Clint took the opportunity to look confused.

"Weren't you born here?" Clint asked curiously, sticking close.

Rogers nodded with a smile. "Yes, but seventy years ago. Everything's pretty much different now. When I first woke up in this time I had to ask for directions every time I left my apartment. Don't worry though, I won't let us get turned around now."

"If we do," Clint started, but stopped quickly. What if Rogers didn't want to help him? Like Reese and Randle, maybe he'd want to keep all the important information to themselves so that he had to rely on him.

Rogers waited for a moment for Clint to continue. When he didn't Rogers stopped and pointed to the skyline. "See that really tall building there? The one with the 'A' marked on the side? That's where we live."

Clint eyed the building and smiled at Rogers. "Well that's not very hard to spot." He joked lightly.

"No, it isn't." Rogers' agreed with a smile. "If you'd seen the city back in my day you'd agree with me that it's an eyesore, but it does make for easy directions. You don't have to worry though, Clint, I don't plan on losing you any time soon. It was hard, for me at least, when you were taken. I'm your leader and I couldn't protect you." Steve paused awkwardly and eyed Clint as they walked. "Do you want to know about it?"

For a moment Clint considered his answer, finally he nodded. "Maybe."

"We don't have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable." Rogers reassured Clint kindly. "I don't want to rush you or make you do something you aren't ready for."

With a sigh Clint considered the options again. On one had Clint didn't want anything to do with the person he used to be. On the other he was curious how everything had happened, but would it trigger his memories? Clint didn't want that, but he hadn't had any more dreams of his past or flashes during the day. Maybe he had finally suppressed all the bad things away.

"I – I think I'd like to know. Or, at least hear what you have to say." Clint sighed. "But, maybe not now."

Rogers nodded without hesitation. "Okay. Anytime you want answers, just ask us."

They continued on together in silence until they reached a place that wasn't made of concrete, metal, brick or glass. Trees and green grass stretched over the space and Clint smiled at the sight. It was more comfortable than everything else he had seen so far.

"I thought you might enjoy this." Rogers said somewhere behind Clint. He hadn't really noticed stepping away from the man's protection. Immediately Clint returned to Rogers' side.

Clint took a minute to calm his heart down again before returning his eyes to the sight before him. It was beautiful. Calm in the middle of complete chaos. "I don't think I like the city." Clint commented as Rogers started to bring them further into the park.

Rogers nodded. "You were born in the country." He offered and then winced. "Sorry, I know you didn't really want to know about your past."

Clint nodded. "I've been lied to too much, I just – I'd rather remember on my own." As soon as the lie left his lips pain seared through Clint's head and he gasped in surprise. With his eyes screwed shut he groaned a little as the heels of his hands dug into his eyelids in an attempt to relieve the pain.

"Clint?" Rogers asked from somewhere to his immediate right. Clint flinched back but quickly changed his mind and moved closer. A hand rested on his shoulder and Clint finally opened his eyes.

"I'm okay." Clint told his companion after a shaky breath. "Headache."

"Are you sure?" Rogers pressed.

"Yes," Clint nodded and glanced at the man curiously. "I'm fine, really Mr. Rogers."

Rogers choked for a moment and sputtered before he formed a sentence. "Mr. Rodgers? Clint, please call me Steve. Or, well, just Steve, if you're too uncomfortable to call me Captain or Cap."

Clint considered the request and nodded. "Okay. If you want."

"I – it's just, we were – I want us to be friends." Rodgers – Steve explained nervously.

Although Clint nodded, he wasn't sure what to believe. He knew he wanted to believe Steve. The man was sincere and his expressions sometimes looked so endearing it was hard to resist not listening to him.

"Do you want to stay or go back to the tower?" Steve asked worriedly.

Clint glanced back towards where they'd come from and shook his head. "No." There were too many people back there. Clint would rather stay in the park where it was quiet – well, quieter. Less people was definitely better than more people.

"Okay." Steve nodded slowly, as if he were unsure of Clint's answer. "Is it because of the crowds?"

Clint wasn't really overly surprised that Steve had figured it out. It wasn't like he had been subtle with his feelings on their little walk. "Yeah." He admitted his eyes studying the ground as he buried himself with his embarrassment.

"We can take a cab back to the tower." Steve smiled. "So just let me know when you're ready to leave."

Clint nodded and they started to walk among the grass and the trees. It was quiet. There were few people around which made Clint relax a bit more. Birds sang from the trees and Clint found himself searching the green leaves for the source of their song. He smiled when he spotted a few feathered creatures hopping along branches.

Laughter caught Clint by surprise and he peeked behind a tree trunk to see several kids playing together on a jungle gym.

"It's nice." Clint decided as they settled on a bench. "That it's not all concrete and glass."

Steve nodded beside him as they enjoyed the breeze that had picked up around them. "There are other places we could visit as well, bigger than this park. Central Park is pretty, we could go there tomorrow or something."

"Maybe." Clint didn't agree or decline. He wasn't sure if he'd be ready to venture out into this world again so soon. It was frightening and new, but equally as fascinating and exciting. "How did you learn to trust again?" He asked suddenly. Clint felt Steve look at him with a look of question and surprise.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked after a long pause.

Clint sighed and turned his eyes away from the white clouds up above them to look at Steve. "You said you woke up in this time, right? Everything was different. One minute something is someway, the next it's another. How did you deal with that? How did you know who to trust?"

Steve swallowed thickly and considered the question carefully. Clint could see the concentration in the way the other man's face scrunched up. Finally Steve answered. "It wasn't easy. At first I didn't want to face anything. I kept myself locked inside and I didn't venture out into the strange world I ended up in. Everything was so different and I just wasn't ready." He shrugged and glanced up at the trees swaying in the breeze above them.

"Eventually I couldn't avoid it anymore. I reached a point where I had to choose to hide or fight for other people and I choose to do what I thought was best." He shrugged. "Trust is something that's always changing. It's a hard truth. Honestly you have to go with your gut feeling and sometimes you end up being wrong. No one can tell you who to trust, that's a choice you make on your own."

"Yeah." Clint agreed with a sigh. "Choices are a bitch."

Steve smirked, "Yeah, but life wouldn't be living if you couldn't choose your own destiny."

Clint scoffed. "How very 'Captain America' of you." He sighed again and stood.

"So you remember Captain America?" Steve asked curiously.

Clint shrugged and nodded. "I know of you. I didn't know I knew you, though."

Steve nodded and joined Clint on his feet. "Let's find that cab and head back, it's kind of cold out here."

* * *

_Love you guys!_

_Reviews are also loved/love ^^ More next Friday! _


	5. Chapter 5

_Lie To Me_

_Special thanks too Chris for the epic beta-ness of this chapter. The last two still aren't 'updated' to their full potential but I shall let you all know – somehow – when they have been. ^^_

_My awesome Reviewers for the last chapter: __**Sandy-wmd**__ (I'm glad you found it! And I'm glad you enjoyed what you've read so far! lol, it appears most of my readers share my aversion to tomatoes! That's kind of awesome. ^^), __**kimbee**__ (One test down, one to go. I have another one on Monday. I'm freaking out, but I think I'll do okay…if I study my ass off. ^^ As for the length of this fic…bored already? Lol, um. I sort of mapped it out when I got this review…but I've forgotten. It's up to seven right now and the end is still a ways off. Maybe eleven chapters? Possible more, possibly less. I'm both enjoying writing this and ready to move onto my next story all at the same time. I'm happy to finish this one for its fans though. What little it has left ^^ I love you guys!), __**sv4me**__ (lol, you may be onto something there. Lol, what kind of prompt do you have in mind? ^^ you might want to get it ready for the next chapter ^^), __**ZhaLenn**__ (Your wish is my command! Mostly because this was the next chapter and you had perfect timing ^^), __**jaurspot**__ (True, but in my mind, and I probably should have emphasized this more, his own lies are far more painful. Not something someone would want to experiment with on purpose. Plus, he's prone to headaches and everything is unfamiliar to him. Honestly I don't think Clint at this point wants to figure anything out either. He's accepting the Avengers and part of him wants to believe them and the other half still thinks everything's a trick. Idk, makes sense in my mind, hope you still are enjoying it.) __**discordchick**__ (nope, but maybe ^^ thanks for the review!) __**Guest**__ (ME TOO! I really liked writing that chapter because I don't explore their friendship enough in my fics. It was a fun experiment! I love the bubble wrap idea! You are epic!) _

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

The next person who demanded to spend some alone time with Clint was Tony Stark. It wasn't exactly odd, Tony was usually around if Clint meandered out of his room to socialize with the Avengers. He didn't always say something serious, like Steve or Bruce, but kept things light and relaxed. Clint didn't mind being around him, it helped that his memories of the man were friendly.

Clint was making his best attempt to figure out the overly complex coffee contraption in the kitchen when the billionaire waltzed into the kitchen.

"Clint!" Mr. Stark, Tony, Clint reminded himself, cheered with more excitement than Clint could believe could be genuine in a human being – at least not that early in the morning. "I've got something I want to show you."

Suspicion crashed into Clint's gut as he eyed the other man warily. Clint wasn't sure why he felt so nervous all of a sudden, as if something really bad were about to happen to him. A small part of him wanted to run back to the safety of his room, but a larger part wanted to hear what Tony had to say.

Nervousness was an odd feeling to have since Tony had been more than kind to Clint since he had come to live in the Avengers' tower. Still, there was a part of Clint who felt nervous about everyone and everything and he wasn't quite sure how to get rid of the feelings.

With a frown Clint gave the billionaire a small nod and for some reason Tony reacted by letting out a loud laugh.

Clint raised an eyebrow at Tony, which only caused Stark to smile brightly.

"Don't act too excited." Tony commented with a playful wink.

Ah, Clint thought to himself. Apparently he was being rather transparent with his inner monolog with his facial expressions. Briefly he wondered if he'd been more closed off in his pervious life, but he quickly decided he didn't want to know.

With a shrug Clint motioned for Tony to lead the way. Stark happily turned and headed toward the stairway instead of the elevator, which Clint was silently grateful for as well as slightly embarrassed.

They arrived down in what appeared to be an entire floor of the large tower turned into a rather impressive gym.

Clint frowned and gave Tony a sideways glance. "Are you trying to tell me something?" Tony looked back at him and frowned deeply with a bit of concern barely masked in his eyes, clearly he did not understand. Clint felt a rush of embarrassment and attempted to explain. "It was a joke, you know, about my weight, you think I need to exercise – never mind."

Stark blinked a few times before he broke into a smile, the widest Clint had ever seen within his short span of memory.

"Clint! You just made a joke!" Tony slapped Clint's shoulder before he led the way to a nearby table. Clint froze when he saw what was set on top of it.

"I've been working on something for you for a while now," Tony continued, oblivious to the change of tension behind him. "It's a bit fancier than your original one, which you can still play with if you prefer, but I'm always trying to improve my friend's toys." Tony picked up the bow, admiring his apparent work as he continued. "This baby is made of a lighter weight material that should make it easier to shoot, but I thought you might like to give it a try." Stark turned and handed Clint the bow only to watch the man take a big step back.

"What?" Tony asked, visibly confused as he looked down at the bow. "Do you not like the color? I thought I might have used too much dark purple, I could throw in some silver if you'd like?"

"No." Clint started, but stopped unable to continue. "I can't." He explained badly.

"You, can't? No, you can." Tony assured slowly with a frown that quickly morphed into an enthusiastic smile. "I mean, well, you could. Before, well, you know." Stark waved his hand over Clint's body as a vague explanation. Tony's expression switched to something more serious but still slightly nonchalant. "Look, there's something called muscle memory. Even when the mind forgets the muscle remembers and those who suffer from amnesia find that they can still perform tasks that they were most familiar with. Trust me when I say that you are very familiar with archery."

"I can't do it." Clint snapped with his eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't want to go through this again. This was just like how it was with Reese and Randle. They had wanted him to do this too, but they had told him he'd fail and that it wasn't real. They'd warned him and now Tony was messing with him.

This was some sort of trap – it had to be. Why else would Tony – Mr. Stark want him to try and do this? This was Randle's doing, somewhere he was laughing at his own joke. Clint didn't want to fall for it again. Hope was a joke and Clint wasn't up for being tricked again.

"What are you talking about? You haven't even tried yet." Tony frowned worriedly. "Just give it a shot." Tony giggled. "Ha, you know, shot? Catch the pun? Hey, that was funny. Gee, Clint, stop with the seriousness already!"

"I can't do it." Clint repeated and backed away from the table with the bow and arrows set up. It was pointless. "I've already tried; back at the other place. I already know I can't do it."

"You were drowning in drugs back then, Clint." Tony pointed out, never losing his cheery smile. "Your mind is clearer now and you're stronger. This time it'll be different. You'll see, just give it a try."

"No." Clint backed up further and shook his head. "You're lying. Everyone's lying to me. I can tell, you know?" Clint hesitated and shook his head, "I mean, I think I know. I just – I just don't know."

Tony's face wrinkled up in several emotions Clint was too lazy to define. "I have just a few observations you might be interested in." Tony announced finally, holding up a finger to silence the already silent Clint. "Why the hell would we lie to you at this point? How can you be so sure we're even lying? Clint, you're better than this. Search you feelings, you know it to be true." The last part was said in a strange voice, probably a quote from something.

Clint didn't like that everything was a joke to Tony. For him this was serious. All these questions and uncertainty – it was killing him. Clint wanted something to believe in but the rug kept on being yanked out from underneath him.

"Lie to me then." Clint shouted back. "If you've been telling the truth so far than tell me a lie. Something I know isn't true. Demi gods I can't see. Superheroes. That's not reality. It hasn't been proven. Tell me something I know is false."

Tony eyed him intensely for a moment and then sighed. "Fine. You want me to lie? I can do that. I'm actually very good at doing that. I pretty much lie all the time. That shirt you're wearing? It's not black – it's pink. Not just a normal fluffy girl pink, no, it's hot pink."

Pain stabbed through Clint's head and he winced in pain. It was a lie. Clint looked down at his black shirt and froze. "Keep going." He whispered.

"The sky? You might think it's blue, but you're wrong. Dead wrong, it's actually bright red. All the time." More pain burned through Clint's brain and he smiled. Tony kept going. "By the way my eyes aren't brown, they're as green as caps. Natasha's hair is black, by the way and yours is grey, you really should think of a dye job, cuz come on, standards."

Clint went to his knees from the pain, his hands raised to cradle his throbbing head.

"Holy shit! Clint?" Tony's voice had changed pitch from flamboyant to concerned so quickly Clint looked up at him in confusion. Blood dripped down his chin from his nose and Tony's skin went pale as he knelt next to him on the ground. "What the hell? Are you okay? What's going on?"

Clint smiled and the blood stained his teeth pink. "They lied." He told Tony vaguely. "They said it was the truth that hurt, but that was because they lied and it hurt. They were covering it up. I get it now; it all makes sense. All of it was so confusing, but I think I know now. I do know. It makes sense. You've been telling the truth all along. I just – I wasn't sure until now, but I'm sure. I know!"

"Yeah, well." Tony said in an unsure voice. "I feel like I missed something."

"My head. They did something to me. Said it was an accident but really it wasn't, right? They messed with something." Clint shook his head. "I can tell when people are lying. It makes my head feels like it's being ripped open."

Tony winced deeply and sat back on the floor. "Anytime anyone lies you feel like your head is being torn apart? Then why the hell did you just make me - ?"

"Because I didn't know. I mean, I guessed, but I didn't know. They twisted everything in that place." Clint shook his head and looked at the man in front of him. "They said that it was the truth that hurt, but, but now I think that's because they were lying and they couldn't – I don't know. They didn't want me to stop trusting them. They needed me for something, but I'm not really sure what."

Slowly Stark nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like typical bad guys doing typical bad guy things. Clint, I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that."

The sincerity in Tony's voice had Clint confused. From what Clint knew about Tony he got the impression that the man was rarely openly serious.

"I – it wasn't your fault." Clint reasoned. It had been a mission, that's what he had been told anyway.

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but shut it before the words could form. With a shake of his head he smiled and glanced Clint over. "You okay?"

"Yeah, the pain doesn't last that long. Not unless, well, Reese did a few sessions that made it last for hours. That happened just before I – " Clint looked away. "I killed her."

"I know it doesn't feel like it now," Tony spoke after a long pause and a couple gentle pats to Clint's shoulder. "But what you did was self defense. They were holding you captive, took your memories, experimented on you and made you believe something that wasn't true."

Clint shook his head and looked away so Tony wouldn't be able to see the mist of tears in his eyes. "I don't want to be a killer."

"Then don't be a killer." Tony announced. "You can do whatever you want, Clint. Eventually everything will work out, right now just be who you want to be."

Clint took a moment to consider Tony's words. Now that he knew what was true and what was false Clint felt more comfortable than he ever had before. He smiled at Tony and nodded. "I think I can do that."

Tony grinned back and stood with an offered hand to help Clint back up to his feet. "Alright, so how about it?" Tony asked Clint, pointing to the bow and arrows and the range set-up. "Want to give it another try?"

Clint was curious. Before he had failed Clint had felt like the bow was part of him. It had felt right in his hands even if he had missed. The drugs would have thrown off his aim. Clint was acutely aware of the drugs and how they had affected his mind. He knew now how clear it felt to be free of the haze. Maybe this time would be different?

Silently Clint moved forward and gingerly picked up the bow. It was much lighter than the one he'd used before and it felt odd in his grasp. Maybe 'odd' wasn't the right word, but it definitely felt different. "You designed this?"

Tony puffed out his chest and took on a stance that screamed 'proud.' "I'm a mechanic." He explained easily.

With a nod Clint looked down at the target and picked up an arrow carefully and placed it on the string. He hesitated, not even drawing the string back. "What if I miss again?" He frowned at Tony, frightened that everything would be wrong again. Although Clint now knew for sure that he couldn't fall as far as before.

"If you don't hit the center I won't hold it against you. Amnesia is as good of a reason as any to miss for the first time ever." Tony grinned until the grin suddenly slipped off his face. "You mentioned that you tried this before? With Reese and Randle, right? I still blame the drugs for you missing the first time. You should see your blood work from when we first got you back. It's full of crap."

Clint nodded slowly, but that didn't really help his fears. "I was so sure that was the key, back then. I remembered being an archer, I had dreamed about it – but when I missed it was devastating."

"I have to say," Tony's tone caught Clint's attention. He sounded amused for some reason, which felt a bit inappropriate. "You are much more open like this."

"I wasn't, um, open before?" Clint asked weakly, he really didn't want to know.

"Nope." Tony grinned. "I was never really able to read you, well, I could, but you only showed what you wanted me – us – to see." He shrugged and waved the words away. "It's not a big deal."

Clint frowned, the more he learned about his old self the more he didn't want to be that person. Not just because of the killing but – well, Clint didn't have to be that Clint again. Not if he avoided remembering.

Gently Clint pulled back the arrow on the string and took aim. He hesitated for a moment before releasing, holding his breath and exhaling as he let the string go. The arrow flew true, landing with a thud on the smallest circle of the target, an inch off of dead center. Clint repeated the motion of nocking back another arrow and releasing, faster and more assured in his ability. This arrow smacked the center of the target with ease.

Clint smiled. It felt right holding the bow and firing the arrows. It felt real. He smiled a small smile at Tony and the other man gave him a double thumbs-up.

"Told ya so." Tony announced with a goofy grin and Clint returned it in kind.

* * *

_Another update next Friday. _

_BTW, it's Friday…lol, 12am, Friday, but still, Friday ^^_

_Thanks for reading. Reviews are love_


	6. Chapter 6

_Lie To Me_

_Thanks for reading this lovely little story guys! I Aced my second test and next weekend I'll have a lot more time for writing. Hopefully I'll get the ball rolling and write this weekend as well…_

_This chapter wasn't beta'd but I did look over it, so hopefully I didn't miss anything! _

_Special thanks to my awesome awe-inspiring reviewers! __**Qweb**__ (lol, I was up late and decided to post early ^^ if that makes any sense at all! SUPER jealous of your location! I've never been to Hawaii/Honolulu but I hear that the scuba diving is amazing!), __**kimbee**__ (No worries about the confusing review ^^ I've had far more interesting ones! Lol. I'm glad you're still liking this little tale!), __**Sandy-wmd**__ (Tony/Clint's friendship is the bomb diggity ^^ It's my favorite! Glad you like!), __**discordchick**__ (It's nice when people make progress, isn't it? Thanks for the review!), __**Zhalenn**__ (lol, sorry to disappoint, I didn't really have this chapter finished to the point where I could have updated it twice, lol. And considering I'm only have way through chapter seven you would have been shorted this week ^^ Blame my two history classes that insisted on having their tests close together. ^^ Thanks for reviewing!), __**Guest**__ (Vulnerable Clint is so adorable! I just want to keep him ^^), __**jaguarspot **__(Yay for learning old tricks ^^),__** sv4me**__ (You must have the ability to read my mind. lol), __**renners**__ (I've not watched Neo Ned yet! I'm excited that you like the story so far! I'm loving writing vulnerable Clint! It's addictive!)_

_Onto the chapter!_

* * *

_Chapter Six_

"I was wondering when you would stop avoiding me." Clint commented to Natasha as she stood silently behind him in the living room. She'd entered the room as silently as ever. Her silence was actually kind of disturbing to Clint, but he was getting used to it.

"Clint?" She asked curiously, probably wondering how he figured out she was there without looking in her direction. Or maybe she was wondering if he'd regained his memories and the previous 'Clint Barton' could always tell where she was without checking.

"Reflection in the TV screen." Clint explained easily as he turned to face her. He'd been reading a book Dr. Banner, Bruce, had recommended earlier in the day when they had been cooking lunch together. It was an interesting story and it was also nice to get involved into fictional drama to give his mind a break from his own.

Natasha frowned ever so slightly and gave one small nod of acceptance – although Clint wasn't exactly sure what she was acknowledging acceptance of, but it didn't really matter.

"I haven't been avoiding you." She said simply as she settled down on the other end of the couch he was currently perched on. Clint moved so they were facing one another and set the book aside.

"Ah, so what would you call it?" Clint asked curiously. He'd finally accepted that the Avengers were his friends and he was safe with them. It had become a bit of a game trying to get to know them all again. He chatted with each of them so far about this and that, never about his past unless they slipped with information.

Clint still had no desire to be who he used to be. An assassin. A murderer. That wasn't who he wanted to be ever again. This whole experience was a do over and Clint hoped he wouldn't be sucked back into being the bloodthirsty person he'd been before. Clint didn't want to be the type of guy who had a weapons closet bigger than the closet for his clothes.

Natasha sent a flicker of a smile at him, "I've been keeping an eye on you." She told him simply. "And giving the others time to reconnect with you before we talked."

"Oh, so now it's your turn?" Clint asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You've started to opened yourself up." Natasha commented more than answered. "You're visibly more relaxed and you've begun to trust us again."

"Let's just say I have a way of knowing whether or not I can believe what people tell me." Clint smirked. He was fairly sure that Tony would have told her about his ability, although he rarely ever saw Natasha and Tony together or really talking at all. Still, it was out there now. Revealed.

Natasha paused for a moment, but nodded. Maybe she wasn't so informed, Clint thought to himself as he waited for her to continue.

"The point is, I've known you the longest," Natasha told him. It wasn't the first time she had given him notice of their history. "If you have any questions you need answers for, I'm here."

Clint looked at her and almost told her he didn't want to know anything, but he stopped. He was curious about their relationship. The dreams he had about her suggested they were more than friends, but she hadn't acted like a girlfriend since he came to live in the tower. Several big questions sprang to mind.

"I have been curious." Clint said finally, his shoulders tense for a moment before he forced himself to relax. It was a simple Q and A session. Nothing more. If she went to deep into their past he'd back out. "Are we married?"

Natasha blinked, clearly not expecting that as his first question. She recovered quickly. "No." She answered simply. No pain, she was telling the truth.

"Huh," Clint responded with a slow nod.

"Why exactly did you think we were?" Natasha's eyes narrowed suddenly and Clint leaned away with surprise.

"Um, just – things." He explained badly. "I mean, I've remembered some things. About us. We seemed – well, close. They told me I was married to you. No picture, of course, but they had your name and description. It fit. You fit."

"Yes, I'm curious how they managed to get my name." Natasha admitted, but Clint didn't have any answers for her so he shrugged his response. Natasha's eyes narrowed but she sighed and clarified. "Right, well we aren't together."

Clint's mind prickled, not quite pain. A half-truth, Clint dubbed that feeling. "Really?" He asked in a way that showed his disbelief.

He liked the way she rolled her eyes.

"What do you want me to say, Clint?" She asked in exasperation.

"You're trying to make me believe we were never a thing?" Clint smiled. "I'm not convinced."

Natasha's glare intensified, but Clint wasn't afraid anymore. He struck a nerve, but he knew somehow that she wouldn't hurt him. Well, not physically. He couldn't really be hurt about a relationship he didn't remember completely either.

"First of all, I didn't say we were never a thing, I said we aren't anymore." She clarified in defense.

"You were the one who called off, whatever it was we had?" Clint asked. His smile slipped a bit as he asked.

She hesitated, but nodded. "Yes."

When Natasha didn't elaborate Clint frowned. "Why?"

Clint watched her roll her eyes again before her perfect lips parted to answer. "You don't remember, so it's hard to explain. We're assassins. Love get's in the way of the job."

"Really?" Clint responded the same unconvinced way he had before.

"Clint." She snapped with a sharp look that made him pause before he smiled. "You don't know how many times I've been used against you, or vise versa. How many times you've nearly died or I've nearly died. Love is dangerous and foolish."

"So that's why." Clint's smile faded a bit as he nodded in his own little acceptance.

Her face screwed up in complete exasperation. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You've known me the longest, can't you tell?" Clint asked bluntly. He was a bit surprised that she was having such a difficult time with this conversation. Clint was reading her expressions better than he ever expected to be able to without his memories.

Natasha sighed, this time with a sad tone that made Clint almost regret his question.

"I know you – the closed off version of you. This – you're different like this. You're not you, not really." She sighed again. "Don't get me wrong, there are pieces of you that are still there and so painfully you, but you aren't complete."

"I'm as complete as I'm going to be." Clint got defensive suddenly.

She blinked at his words in confusion. "You were remembering." She pointed out carefully.

"Yeah," Clint looked away from her. "I was." He sighed.

They were quiet for a moment before Natasha broke the silence. "Clint." She whispered with such compassion his eyes turned back to her to see if she was still glaring. She wasn't. Her eyes were soft with open worry. "I know it isn't easy to remember some things."

"Isn't easy?" Clint laughed out loud but the sound was cold and humorless. His eyes slid away from her again. "Understatement."

"Clint." Natasha said again, but was unable to coax him to look at her again.

"I don't want to be a killer." He told her with more harshness than he had intended. He looked at her again when she tried to say something. "I don't want to be that person again. I have a chance to be something different, something better." His eyes searched hers and he found understanding.

"Okay." Natasha answered in a quiet voice. "You don't have to be who you were, Clint. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We aren't going to make you hurt anyone and we're going to do everything in our power to make sure no one hurts you ever again."

Clint frowned at that. "Hurt me? Why would – " Clint paused as realization came over him. His past. He'd killed people, but other people had been left behind. There were people from his past who were probably angry and wanted vengeance. People like Randle.

"Oh." Clint nodded sadly.

"You're vulnerable like this, Clint." She told him. "But we'll do what we can to protect you."

Clint looked at her and saw the truth in her determination.

"Okay." He told her since he had nothing else to say.

* * *

Later when Clint was alone with Steve he brought something up that had been bothering him since his conversation with Natasha.

"Natasha said I was vulnerable." He blurted as they walked down the street. It had become easier to go on walks with Steve as the noisy city became familiar.

Steve glanced at him and frowned ever so slightly. "In some ways, I guess you are more vulnerable now than before. Well, yeah, you are." Steve fumbled with his answer. "It's just, before you could defend yourself and you knew how to fight and now, well, you don't."

Clint frowned and nodded. "I guess that makes sense."

"Do you want to learn how to defend yourself?" Steve asked curiously.

"I don't want to kill people." Clint looked at his friend with open emotion.

Steve nodded. "You don't have to. Not if you don't want to. I can teach you how to fight without killing anyone, just so you can protect yourself. Self-defense."

"So I won't be vulnerable." Clint stated even though he hadn't decided on anything. He didn't like the idea of others getting hurt trying to protect him, but he also didn't like the idea of doing the hurting either. Recently Clint had wished his past died with whoever Clint Barton used to be.

"Look, Clint," Steve started as they arrived at the park they started to walk to whenever Clint felt brave enough to go outside. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, ever."

The lack of pain told Clint that Captain America truly believed his words.

"I know." Clint nodded. "It's just – I don't know what I want to do."

"It sounds like you don't want to kill people needlessly, right?" Steve asked gently as they sat at their usual bench.

Clint nodded slowly with agreement. "Yeah."

"You also don't want to see other people getting hurt, right?" Steve pressed.

Clint raised an eyebrow and nodded again. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Steve grinned a bright boyish smile. "Sounds like you want to be a superhero."

"What?" Clint blinked in surprise.

"That's what we do, Clint. What you used to do. You watched our backs in the field and made sure that we weren't hurt by the enemy."

Clint stared back at Steve and slowly started to shake his head. "I don't want to hurt people, even if they are bad."

"You don't have to." Steve reassured him. "You're an archer. Tony and you have developed special trick arrows, a lot of them are non-lethal. We can show you how they work and when to use them."

Clint frowned deeply in deliberation. "So, I won't have to hurt anyone?"

It was Steve's turn to frown in consideration. "I can't promise you won't have to make hard choices, but you will be saving lives. Helping people."

Clint nodded, grateful for the other man's honesty. It didn't make the decision any easier though. They sat in silence with Steve's last sentence hanging in the air.

It wasn't an easy choice since there were so many unknown variables. Still, Clint knew he could always back out. Training would at least insure that he could defend himself and Steve had basically promised him the opportunity of redemption. If he were to change his mind he was sure the other Avengers would honor his wishes.

Here was his chance to make something better of his life, something that had the possibility of being good. What was more honorable than saving the world?

"I want to give it a try." Clint decided as they stood to head back to the tower.

Steve smiled and nodded. "Okay. The second you don't feel comfortable with it, just tell us. We'll do this at your own pace."

Slowly Clint nodded. "Okay." He nodded. He felt apprehensions, but he also felt a stir of excitement. "When can we start?"

* * *

_Reviews and reviewers are loved ^^_


	7. Chapter 7

Lie To Me

_Special thanks to those who reviewed for the last chapter: __**ZhaLenn**__ (Thanks so much! It was a big win for me to get an A on that test. Thanks for the review!), __**Qweb**__ (Aw, you nailed that on the head! All three points! Thanks!), __**sv4me**__ (I'm sorry that it was disappointing, but I did say that Blackhawk/Clintasha wasn't the focus of this story. I feel like I should write you a Blackhawk story to make up for that fact, lol. At least in this universe Natasha is very frightened of a relationship. She's really only there because she cares about Clint and doesn't want him to get hurt.), __**Sandy-wmd**__ (Agreed. It would have been awkward even if he did want to remember since they weren't together anymore by her choice, not his. Natasha's still love-phobic but she does care for Clint, and she's not ready to lose the man she could have loved), __**Alfheimchick**__ (Me cool? You're cool! ^^ Thanks for the review!), __**kimbee**__ (I definitely wouldn't want to remember if I had his life…suddenly I want poppy seed muffins…I just thought I'd share…random. As for my next story, I'm working it out. Actually I'm writing a new chapter for Antics ^^ It's awesome!), __**discordchick**__ (I was surprised how much I liked Steve and Clint's interactions in this story, I'd never really written them together in anything else…except for maybe the first chapter of Antics, lol), __**jaguarspot**__ (They haven't told him much of his past because he asked for them not to. He wanted to 'remember' on his own, although now he's dead set on not remembering. Thanks for the reviews!)_

* * *

_**Chapter Seven**_

Natasha decided to join Steve in his mission to retrain her former partner. If anyone could help guide Clint back to his previous ability, it would be Natasha. After all they had trained together ever since she had joined SHIELD.

"I'd like to state for the record that I don't like this." She admitted while they waited for Clint to join them.

Steve gave her a sidelong glance as he wrapped his knuckles with protective tape. "Why not? Having him do the things he's most familiar with might jog his memory." He pointed out.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but agree, at least in that regard. She was worried though. Worried her partner would get hurt. It was a bit childish or maybe even a bit paranoid, but Natasha couldn't help but think something bad would happen. No matter what they taught him now he'd never be the way he was before. Years of training and natural instinct didn't just come back to you through muscle memory.

"I still think this is a bad idea. He's not ready to fight with us in the field." Natasha shook her head stubbornly at Steve.

Steve frowned at her words and turned to face her more directly. "I never said he'd be field-ready after one session. I didn't say he was going into the field at all. I was hoping he'd eventually rejoin us, but that'll be strictly up to him, not me."

"I know Clint better than any of you do." Natasha pointed out with a bite of bitterness. "He'll end up rushing this and want to jump into battle before he's ready."

Steve shook his head slowly. "This Clint seems more cautious." He argued. "Besides, maybe it will be a good thing. Maybe joining us in the field will bring back his memories."

Natasha's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Or maybe he'll end up dead."

A cough interrupted whatever Steve was going to say back and the two of them glanced over to see Clint standing off to the side. "Sorry." He told them sheepishly. "I just figured you'd want to know I'm here before you continue your conversation." He shrugged.

Natasha huffed but backed off and Steve sighed and did the same as he turned to Clint with a small smile. "Sorry about that." Steve spoke honestly. Natasha could tell that Cap felt guilty that Clint had heard their conversation, even if he wasn't sure how much Clint had heard.

Natasha was slightly impressed that Clint was able to sneak up on both of them unnoticed, but then again Clint was a master at sneaking around. At least the old Clint had been.

"Look," Clint said and paused to clear his throat before he continued. "I don't want to jump into a uniform or costume or whatever and go fight any bad guys anytime soon." He told them carefully, his eyes looked more towards Natasha than Steve. "I'm just – not ready for that. Mentally, physically, you can take your pick in reasons for me not to. All I want to accomplish here with you guys is learning to defend myself. I don't want anyone to get hurt because I couldn't do anything to help."

Natasha felt relief and sadness rush through her at the same time. It was conflicting and confusing but she still understood why she felt both so strongly. This Clint was more responsible, but that just made her heart ache for the Clint she had lost. This Clint had been remembering but now it appeared that he stopped.

But why _had_ he stopped remembering? That was the biggest question on Natasha's mind. She refused to think that her Clint was lost forever.

"Okay," Steve spoke up with a nod and a smile. "We'll start with the basics and move from there."

Over the next few hours Steve and Natasha taught Clint how to defend himself from various kinds of attacks. It wasn't surprising to them when Clint picked things up quickly. They didn't even have to go through some things because his muscle memory picked up where his mind left off. All they were really doing was helping Clint redevelop those lost skills so he could use them without blind luck.

Things got a little more interesting when Steve threw a punch and Clint dodged it by doing an acrobatic back summersault without being retaught the action or even being told that he had gymnastic stills. They paused for a moment while Clint processed what he had done before they continued to spar.

Natasha pushed Clint to expose more of his acrobatic talents when they sparred together, Clint's body responding with muscle memory before his mind could really process what he was doing.

Soon it seemed as if Clint was back to normal and they were sparring like they always had.

In the heat of moment mixed with building adrenaline Natasha briefly forgot that Clint wasn't back to normal and threw a more advanced move into the mix before he was ready to deal with it.

She charged Clint, wrapped her legs around his body, and knocked him off balance enough to force him to fall back onto the mat. Normally he'd counteract after they hit the mat, but it was clear this Clint was a bit stunned from the force of the hit.

Natasha stayed on top of him, straddling his body with her knees resting on either side of his heaving chest. Her face stayed inches away from Clint's. They were stealing each other's air, but Natasha didn't mind sharing.

"Clint." She whispered his name in breathy hope that somehow his memory had returned if only because she wanted it so badly.

He flushed underneath her intense gaze and Natasha immediately retreated. This wasn't her Clint. This wasn't her partner and there was a chance she'd never see that man again. Without another word she nodded to Rogers, who looked incredibly uncomfortable, and left the gym.

* * *

Clint laid on the ground for a long moment after Natasha stormed away and focused on catching his breath.

"That was," Steve said from the side as he moved closer, sitting a safe distance away from Clint before handing him a water bottle. "Good."

Clint turned his head to look at Steve and raised an eyebrow before sitting up. His whole body was sore from using muscles that hadn't been used for too long. "Weird would have been a more accurate definition, I think."

"The sparring part was good." Steve clarified with a wince. "You went from a beginning level to high intermediate in only a few hours, I'd say that was pretty good."

Clint's endurance needed building after he was inactive for so long, but yeah, he could agree that at least that part had gone well. It was still a bit odd to him how his body seemed to know things that he had forgotten. It also felt a bit dangerous, too close to remembering for comfort.

"And the Natasha thing?" Clint mumbled with a glance to the door and then a look back to Steve.

Steve shook his head and shrugged at the same time. "I don't know. You two broke up not long after New York. That's really all I know."

A prickle of pain surprised Clint. "You're lying." He growled and Steve blinked.

"Oh, Tony mentioned – but I, I guess I thought he was joking." Steve frowned. "I wasn't trying to lie, Clint, but it really isn't any of my business. I could tell that you both still cared for one another, but she wasn't ready and you were done pushing it." Steve shrugged again.

Clint nodded as he twisted the cap off the water and downed half of it's contents slowly. "I'm not sure what she wants here." Clint commented. "I mean, does she want to try to rekindle her relationship with the former me?"

Steve shook his head. "I think she's trying to protect you until you remember."

With a short scoffing noise Clint stood and Steve joined him.

"This was a really good start, Clint." Steve praised him as they stood outside of the gym, ready to part ways to shower and get ready for the evening meal.

Clint nodded, his mind still half on Natasha as he glanced at Steve. "I have to admit it went better than I would have thought, but I'm still worried. It doesn't really feel like I learned anything. It was more like, I don't know, I was cheating somehow. Do you think muscle memory is enough to keep me safe?" _Is it enough to keep everyone around me safe?_ Clint added in the safety of his mind.

"Yes," Steve answered with a reassuring smile, "I do. You'll be able to defend yourself the way you used to very soon."

"And 'fighting the bad guys' what about that?" Clint asked, suddenly less concerned with Natasha.

Steve sighed and deflated a little. "That's up to you. When you feel ready – "

"Natasha doesn't seem to think I'll ever be ready." Clint interrupted. "At least not without my old memories."

"Natasha is concerned for your safety." Steve shrugged. "We all are. I won't lie when I say we all hope you'll remember soon."

"I don't." Clint mumbled and promptly ignored the shocked look that crossed Steve's face.

"What?" Steve asked.

"I don't want to remember." Clint informed him. "I'm going to go shower." He announced before an argument could start. Clint didn't want to fight over it. He also didn't want to remember. It was time they knew where he stood on the matter. He didn't want them to continue hoping for something he didn't think would ever happen. It wasn't fair. Especially when they were all so kind to him. Clint also didn't want them to be nice to him just because they thought eventually he'd turn back into the guy he had been before.

* * *

It was later that night that Tony announced that they should celebrate something. It started out as a celebration for Clint's choice to trust the team, but changed to Clint's sparring lesson going well before finally being switched to a team bonding movie night after Clint told Tony that he'd rather not be in the spotlight.

Simple bonding turned out to be a good choice anyway. It had been a while since the Avengers had gotten a chance to relax together. Clint's amnesiac status hadn't changed the tension much, but they were all safe and together, apart from Thor who was home on Asgard.

Clint caught Steve staring at him, which was making him slightly uncomfortable. He figured that Steve hadn't told anyone about his announcement. Clint also was fairly certain that Steve was going to try and talk to him after their little party. Steve would give some meaningful speech that would tug at Clint's heart and trick him into wanting to remember, but it wasn't going to work. Clint was stubborn and pointedly ignored the stares.

Natasha seemed to be the only one who noticed, but she was avoiding Clint as much as Clint was avoiding Steve.

So much for team 'bonding' night.

"Who wants a beer?" Tony announced suddenly as Bruce handed out bowls of popcorn.

Clint glanced around when no one responded. Wasn't beer drinking a typical 'bonding' experience for people?

"Come on, Steve? How bout it?" Tony pressed, raising a couple beers in the air.

Steve peeled his eyes off of Clint's back and glanced Tony's direction with a frown. "What's the point? I can't get drunk."

Clint glanced over his shoulder at the man with a raised eyebrow. "Really?"

"Super soldier serum – super soldier metabolism." Steve offered with a shrug.

Bruce was turning Tony down when Clint spoke up. "I'll have one."

The room fell silent and suddenly all eyes turned to him. Even Tony looked surprised, his jaw hanging slightly ajar.

Clint stiffened at the attention and glanced around defensively. "What's wrong?" He asked with a blush.

"Um," Bruce spoke up awkwardly. "It's just you don't really drink."

Clint's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why not? It's socially acceptable, right? I mean, I've watched enough TV shows and movies – "

"It's not that." Natasha interrupted, but no words followed to elaborate.

"Well, am I allergic or something?" Clint asked.

Bruce shook his head. "No."

"Okay, well, I want to give it a try." Clint announced and held his hand out to Tony to take a beer. Tony hesitated before handing the beer over to Clint. "I need to figure out what I like and what I don't like on my own, right?"

"I guess." Tony sighed and looked guilty for a second before his expression switched to pure joy. "If you like the beer maybe we can go to a bar sometime. No one ever goes with me to bars! Well, except Rhode, but he's always busy with his job and tends to suck the fun out of things."

Clint nodded, that sounded normal. He smirked a bit before taking his first sip out of the bottle. It was bitter, but smooth with a slightly citrus taste. Clint made a face at first but tipped his head. It wasn't bad. Not like the tomato anyway.

"Not bad." Clint announced after taking a second sip. "So, why didn't I drink before?"

"Uh," Tony stalled and glanced at Natasha.

She cleared her throat, which was interesting since she rarely showed any signs of being uncomfortable. "Your father drank a lot when you were a child. Your brother also was a bit of a drunk. You didn't want to be like them."

Clint let the words wash over him as he held the beer in his hands. He got the impression that his family had been bad people too. That sort of explained a lot about his past self. What it didn't explain was how not drinking made him 'better' than his drunk relatives since he killed people for a living sober.

He shrugged after a few minutes of prolonged silence, "Bar sounds interesting." Clint told Tony with a smirk. The tension seemed to fade a bit at the lightness in Clint's tone.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Reviews are loved! I feel like I should say something more snarky or cute….but I'm lazy…and craving poppy seed muffins….I'm gunna go bake some…_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Lie To Me**_

_Okay guys, I didn't get as much writing done this last weekend, at least not as much as I wanted too. However, we're making it to the end of this story. I'm estimating it being over in about three or four more chapters. _

_Thanks to all my readers who stuck with me!_

_Special thanks to my reviewers, you guys are the ones I'm writing for ^^: __**kimbee**__ (lol, the drinking scene was one of the key scenes I wanted for this story. I think originally I wanted it to be more humorous but the angst seemed to fit a bit better), __**jaguarspot**__ (lol, Pepper is out of the game, I'm not going to bring her back into this story. There is a very slight chance I'll write another story after this one in the same universe with her in it, but it's kind of doubtful at the moment. Thanks for your input!), __**sv4me**__ (I might do a Clintasha story, if I had an interesting idea for it. Last one I did I think was Riot…), __**discordchick**__ (lol, I agree, but mostly because alcohol isn't for me ^^ I'd rather spend my money on fancy coffee that tastes good!), __**Guest**__ (I like explore this new side to Clint as well, its an interesting experience and I'm glad you're enjoying it as much as I am!), __**ZhaLenn**__ (Sometimes I miss our old Clint as well…that's probably one of the reasons why I took a detour and wrote an episode/chapter of Antics ^^), __**thewriterstory**__ (Aw! I'm so glad you like it! Thanks ever so much for reviewing! You are awesome!)_

_On to the story!_

* * *

_**Chapter Eight**_

Steve cornered Clint after the movie. Clint could tell that Steve wasn't trying to corner him, but the results were the same. Steve followed him out and slipped into the elevator with him. A cage if Clint ever did see one.

"Look," Steve started by facing Clint, unintentionally blocking Clint from the only exit, not that Clint could get through it anyway since the doors were shut. "I get that not all your memories are great ones. And I understand not wanting to remember. There are times, less now than there used to be, when I wish I could forget the first twenty years of my life. All the people I lost and miss terribly, but I can't. That's who I am and that scrawny little kid made me who I am today."

Clint studied the ground, not wanting to hear what Steve had to say, but listening all the same.

"Clint." Steve begged, drawing Clint's eyes up to his. "I know you're afraid of your past. But who you used to be, whatever you did before, that person made you into the man I call 'friend.' You're strong for people who can't be and would give your life to keep them safe. Don't give up on yourself just yet."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open revealing Steve's floor. Steve hesitated, waiting for a response.

Slowly Clint nodded. "I'll think about it." He offered. It was all he could do.

"That's all I ask." Steve responded, "Goodnight, Clint."

A few weeks later the Avengers were called to assemble.

Steve and Clint were in the gym getting ready to spar when the alarm sounded. Three loud screams of a siren followed by Jarvis's voice saying, "Avengers, assemble." It was the most enthused Clint had ever heard the robotic voice.

Clint glanced with a raised eyebrow at Steve who smiled grimly in reply. "Tony thought we needed a catch phrase." He explained and motioned for Clint to follow.

"Where are we going?" Clint asked curiously. He'd explored a little bit of the tower, but mostly stuck to the areas he'd been shown.

Steve looked at Clint over his shoulder and smiled. "Oh, you haven't seen the Panic room yet? Tony designed it after the whole Loki thing."

"Loki?" Clint parroted as they walked, he quickened his pace to match Steve's so they were side by side. "What's a Loki?"

"Um, I think that's a story for another time." Steve pointed in the direction they were turning down the hall. "Anyway, Tony was really enthusiastic about us all living together and saving the world as a team. And it is exciting. He rebuilt the tower as our headquarters, but this was his prized accomplishment."

They walked through the double doors together, entering into a large room full of flashy technology. Dozen's of flat screens lined the walls showing different news feeds, some in other languages with translations scrolling down at the bottom.

In the center of the room was a round table, well, sort of a table. It's top was a screen, like a computer with more information and images.

The other Avengers were already gathered around the round table and shyly Clint joined them. Tony flashed him a smile before he tapped on the Screen Table and activated some kind of holographic device. A three-dimensional image of what appeared to be some kind of robot formed in front of them, turning slowly so that everyone could see all of it's angles.

"These are the things currently attempting to destroy our lovely city." Tony announced. "Why everyone wants to destroy New York is beyond me. I mean, there are other places that are just as awesome they could destroy." He glanced at Clint. "We've dealt with robots similar to this before. It's actually fairly routine. A lot of idiots that create these things try to improve on the last idiot's design, but it doesn't always work out for them. These things are more annoying than dangerous."

A part of the machine, robot-thing was enlarged and started to glow. "This is the weak spot, boys – and girl." He nodded to Natasha who glared at him. "I'm sorry, woman?" Tony corrected with a grin.

Steve pressed on with the meeting. "So, aim for the spot behind their neck?" He pointed at the glowing part of the image.

"Basically, yeah." Tony nodded and then glanced at Clint. "You know, we could use another sharp shooter on this. Cap's shield lacks finesse and Widow's aim is for crap – ouch!" Tony yelped when Natasha smacked him on the back of the head. "What, it's true. You're kick ass at close hand combat but you're sloppy with your gun."

"I'll show you how sloppy I am." Natasha hissed in a low dangerous voice that made Clint step back even though he was nowhere close to her. There was no pain so Clint knew she wasn't exactly lying, but he also guess that she wasn't going to shoot Tony. Well, hopefully she wasn't going to shoot Tony.

Tony harrumphed and turned back to Clint. "Anyway, I can only be so awesome alone."

Clint froze and looked around the table at the eyes staring at him.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Clint asked quietly.

Steve glanced at Natasha who glared, but kept quiet.

"It's a low threat, really." Steve offered calmly. "They're doing damage to the city but they aren't attacking people. It'll be more like moving target practice than a life or death battle."

Tony nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, you'll be up high and it's not like you ever miss."

"Even if you did miss," Bruce jumped in, "That part of the city has been pretty much evacuated. You'll do fine, if you choose to help."

Clint nodded slowly before locking eyes with Natasha. "What do you think?"

Natasha looked at him and sighed out her anger. "It's your choice. If you think you are ready."

It wasn't really an answer, but Clint agreed. It was his choice. He wanted to help. Clint didn't like the idea of sitting around the tower, watching the news and waiting for his friends to return. Slowly he turned to Steve and nodded.

"Lets do it."

Tony clapped his hands together excitedly. "This is going to be fun. Let's get suited up."

"Clint, come with me." Steve motioned for Clint to follow. They moved over to the other side of the Panic room and Steve opened a compartment for Clint. "Put it on." He smiled encouragingly.

Clint took the material of his 'suit' in his hand and frowned. "This doesn't seem very protective." He commented, eyeing Steve worriedly.

Tony appeared on the other side of Clint, already wearing his Ironman suit. "It's actually more protective than your old suit was. I made some upgrades on the material. It acts like regular material to make it easier to move in but it'll stop a bullet. You'll still get a spectacular bruise, but you won't be dead."

"Not dead is good." Clint's eyes widened a bit in surprise.

"Not that you have to worry about getting shot." Steve said as he smacked Tony on the back of the head.

"Right, I'm just doing the shooting – with arrows." Clint sighed and slipped into the suit.

Steve nodded. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to." He added sincerely.

"I know." Clint grabbed the bow in the locker and slipped the quiver onto his back. "This is what we've been working toward, right? No time like the present to get back into the – um, game?"

"Totally a game." Tony patted Clint's shoulder gently. "Just point, aim and shoot."

"Let's get out there," Natasha barked from behind them. Her eyes were sharp and her arms were crossed over her chest with impatience. "The longer you guys stall the more damage those things are going to do to the city."

Steve sighed, but nodded. "Tony, take Clint and drop him off on a nice perch. We'll be there as soon as possible."

"Good thing the old-Clint taught you how to fly a Quinjet." Tony told Steve brightly as he motioned for Clint to follow him.

Clint frowned but followed after Tony. "What's a Quinjet?"

"Ooo," Tony sung. "I'll have to reintroduce you later. But for now, let's fly!"

They had reached Tony's official landing pad, but Clint wasn't quite prepared for what happened next. One minute they were talking and the next Tony grabbed the back of his quiver and launched them both into the air.

The world blurred by and it took a moment for Clint to realize he was flying. His stomach dropped as they soared into motion. High. So high if he were dropped Clint wouldn't even know he'd died when he hit the ground. Thankfully the whipping wind captured the whimper that crawled its way up the back of Clint's throat as he stared wide-eyed at the world below him.

After what felt like forever, Tony dropped him down on skyscrapers roof. Unable to keep his shaky legs straight underneath him Clint fell to his knees and promptly threw up.

"Holy crap," Tony landed, his faceplate thing slid back. "Sorry, you normally don't get motion sickness."

"I've done that before?" Clint asked incredulously.

Tony nodded. "You actually enjoy it. Sometimes you'd ask me to go flying for the hell of it. You okay?"

"I'm beginning to think the 'old-me' was insane." Clint growled and stood when something nearby exploded.

"We'll talk about it later. Just breathe, Hawkeye, you'll do fine." Tony reminded him confidently. "We've got your back." Tony smiled and his facemask slid back into place. "Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, It's off to work we go." Tony sang as he blasted off.

Once Clint had recovered, or at least didn't feel like the entire world started to spin in the opposite direction, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and moved to the edge of the building.

The city below was in chaos. There were robots everywhere. Most flying with the rest attached to various buildings causing destruction.

A roar caught his attention and Clint looked down just in time to see Banner walk into the fray and turn into – what the hell?

"Tony!" Clint called through the communication device. "Something happened to Bruce!" Clint felt his heart clench with fear, what if the robots were caring some horrible poison? How were they supposed to stop that?

"Uh? Bruce is fine." Tony's voice sounded confused. "Oh, oh, you mean, oh yeah, you've never met Hulk. Um, so that's Bruce's better half."

"Better half?" Steve's voice joined the conversation. "You'd better not say that to Bruce."

Tony made an insulted noise. "Oh please, Bruce isn't that sensitive. Mostly. Anyway, that's his, um, super power."

"His super power is turning into a huge green thing?" Clint frowned and watched as the green beast destroyed pretty much everything in its path. Including cars and lamp poles. Actually Bruce, Hulk, picked up one of the lamp poles and started using it as a bat, smacking the robots out of the air and laughing. "Um, he turns into a green beast. There's such thing as demi-gods. The world is a freaky place."

"Pretty much." Tony agreed, from where Clint stood he saw Ironman flying around, blasting robots with his suit.

"Okay," Clint took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Just point and shoot." He reminded himself lightheartedly as he pulled his arrow back on the taunt string and released.

The first arrow pierced the weak spot on the robots neck and the thing dropped. Okay, so that wasn't so bad. He could do this. Clint felt himself smile ever so slightly as he drew another arrow and took aim.

The heat of the battle had Clint's heart on overdrive. It pounded against the inside of his chest as he nocked back each arrow and released it. The feeling wasn't panic, but it was hard to place at first. The closest way to describe it was pure exhilaration.

It was like coming home. Clint had never felt more comfortable doing something in his life. The feel of the edge of the building, the confidence he had in his bow and aim. The sense of victory and accomplishment Clint felt every time an enemy dropped from the sky told him something about himself.

This was where he was meant to be.

* * *

_Reviews and reviewers are loved!_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Lie To Me**_

_Hey guys, sorry for vanishing last week, but these last two weeks have been hell. I had a ten-page paper, two history tests, critique, and a billion other things going on. And lucky me I got some sort of virus version of Strep Throat (my doctor was confusing) on Sunday before EVERYTHING. On the bright side I got an A on both tests and critique seemed to have gone well…and I don't have a repeat week like that in my immediate future…_

_**Qweb**__ (I loved writing that!), __**ELOSHAZZY**__ (Aw, I'm glad you like it! Thanks for the review!), __**Sandy-wmd**__ (lol, I realized that Clint had never seen the transformation before and saw the opportunity, it was awesome ^^), __**kimbee**__ (I'm excited TOOOO ^^), __**jpgFury **__(lol, well I was trying to do something different. We all know Clint's a bad ass, I was exploring a different version of him. I'm glad you stuck around though. It's almost over ^^), __**thewriterstory**__ (You pointed out all my favorite parts! Thanks for reviewing!), __**discordchick **__(^^ I like that too, he's getting more and more comfortable with who he used to be. Thanks for the review!), __**jaguarspot**__ (^^ lol), __**jensmit75**__ (Aw, thanks! I have several stories planned for the future, it all just depends on time ^^ Thanks so much!), __**pumpkin girl**__ (No problem! Thanks for reviewing whenever you have the chance!), __**sv4me**__ (Thanks! I loved that line ^^)_

* * *

_**Chapter Nine**_

After the battle Clint was on an adrenaline high as he and the others arrived back at the tower. It felt like he could be everywhere and nowhere at one time the way his body was vibrating with excitement.

"That was amazing!" He told Tony and Steve animatedly as they gathered in the living area of the Avengers Tower. Bruce was in his room recovering from his time as the Hulk. Clint found it sad that the guy's transformation caused him so much pain when the results were so cool. All great things did come with a price though. At least Bruce was all right, that was all that really mattered to Clint.

Everyone was okay. It was like Tony had said in the briefing, the robots were more annoying than dangerous.

"We were amazing, weren't we?" Tony smiled smugly as he slapped Steve on the shoulder.

Captain America frowned ever so slightly at Stark as he spoke to Clint. "It's not always like that."

"What? Fun?" Clint asked, ignoring the sudden serious tone of the conversation. He was in a good mood and didn't feel like letting Cap rain on his parade.

"Yes." Natasha hissed, appearing next to Steve. "I told you this was a bad idea." She added, speaking directly to Steve.

"It wasn't a bad idea." Tony sang, not losing the lightness of his personality to join the others on the serious train. Clint grinned at him. At least one of them was on his side. "It was a great idea! Clint did epically! Didn't you Clint?"

Clint frowned ever so slightly. "Okay, it was awesome until you started talking to me like I was a dog that fetched a ball and brought it back." He harrumphed. "Come on, can't we just put all the serious crap away and celebrate for a moment? That was awesome. We saved the city from a lot of damage and now we need to bask in the victory. If Thor – " Clint stopped short immediately and all eyes were on him.

"If Thor?" Steve bravely prompted.

Clint's eyes snapped closed as searing pain rocked through his skull. No, he thought. He couldn't do this. It was more instinct now than anything else. He was more open to remembering now, but remembering the good would come with remembering all the bad, he'd had only a taste of the bad.

With a shake of his head, Clint raised a hand to fend off the pain that echoed throughout his brain. Fighting elements. It was a delicate battle silently raging. The room was deadly quiet around him as he struggled.

"I don't know." He managed after the pain had finally subsided and no new memories had risen. Maybe he'd been remembering all along but blocking it out. Vaguely he could picture what 'Thor' looked like. Blond. Big. Muscular. Loud. "He would want to celebrate. I think he would want to celebrate." Clint said quietly.

He'd been lying to himself. Forcing the memories away behind the wall that was guarding them. It wasn't his wall, it was foreign, something Reese and Randle had created to keep him in line.

Still, things slipped through. He dreamed even if he chose to forget the dreams once he was awake.

Clint looked around the room at the faces of his friends.

"Do you remember?" Tony asked. It was a bit surprising to hear the flamboyant man's voice tremble with what Clint thought might be fear. What did Tony have to fear? Maybe he was afraid he was wrong and Clint hadn't remembered anything new.

"I, it just slipped into my head. Thor. I can sort of picture him, I don't really remember, not really." Clint tried to explain. "I think I've been dreaming about things, but I don't remember them when I wake up." He shook his head. "It's all behind this wall in here." He pointed to his head. "I can't break it down." Granted, Clint added to himself, wincing at his own half-truth, he hadn't really tried to break it down.

Natasha's eyes locked with his and he distinctly saw her hope shining through. It was gone within seconds, but it had been there, easy for him to read. She wanted him back to normal.

"Good." She said abruptly. "Perhaps Bruce can teach you some meditation techniques to help you recall your dreams." Natasha offered quickly, but relaxed, like it wasn't a big deal if Clint accepted the offer or not. Except Clint knew for her it was a big deal.

Clint nodded mutely at that, his eyes suddenly fixed on the floor.

"You were right," Tony's loud voice chimed in suddenly. "Thor would want to celebrate so celebrate we shall! Too the bar!" He announced loudly, his finger thrusting up into the air, pointing to the ceiling, which added dramatic effect but didn't really make any sense.

Natasha glared at Tony, which made Clint giggle a quietly when Tony gave her a 'what'd I do?' look in return. "He doesn't drink." She hissed.

"The old Clint doesn't, this Clint is more open to experimentation." Tony grinned wildly.

Natasha huffed, glancing worriedly at Clint who shrugged a shoulder in silent response. Seemingly even more angered Natasha muttered angrily in Russian and left the room.

"Okay, so Red obviously isn't in, Cap?" Tony asked Steve who seemed to be processing everything that was happening.

Steve quickly shook his head. "No thanks, I think I'm going to go talk to Bruce about arranging that meditation for you." He told Clint.

Tony huffed like he was insulted. "Fine, be boring." He pointed a finger at Steve's chest before turning to Clint, stepping into Steve's line of sight of Clint purposefully. "Looks like it's just us cool cats, huh, Clint?"

Clint smirked a little. He understood why Natasha was worried and he understood why he should be weary of alcohol. Still, he never drank more than two beers, mostly because beer was disgusting. Clint liked hanging out with Tony though and Tony liked to drink. So it was an issue, but it was just a small issue.

"Yeah, it's their loss." Clint smirked.

"Score!" Tony literally beamed in response, which made everything okay. "Let's get out of these uniforms and let's go party!"

Fifteen minutes later and Tony and Clint were out on the streets of New York. It was nighttime in the city and Clint had never been out at night before. Any time he and Steve went for a walk or a run it had been during the day.

It was beautiful. Still loud and overpowering, but sparkling like stars. Clint's eyes were wide as he took everything in from the headlights and taillights of cars to the skyscrapers sparkling up above them. The streetlights were just as distracting and Tony snickered at him momentarily.

"You really need to get out more, Clint." Tony commented good-naturedly.

Clint smirked in response. "Yeah, you're probably right. I was afraid I'd get lost though." He admitted quietly.

"Well, any time you want to take a stroll, just let me know." Tony offered seriously. He slowed his steps and Clint looked at him, surprised to see a suddenly serious expression.

"Tony?" Clint inquired.

Tony glanced up from the spot on the ground he'd been staring at as they came to a stop. "Look. You're starting to remember so I think it's time we talk about something." Tony took a shaky breath that made Clint feel instantly nervous.

"What did I do?" Clint asked fearfully. Would it ruin their friendship? Clint wasn't sure if he could handle that. He liked the life he'd built and he wasn't sure if he could have everything ripped away from him again and survive it.

Sharply Tony shook his head. "No, it wasn't you, it was me." He shook his head again and sighed. "Well it wasn't – " Tony stopped, his head jerking a little to the side and his hand reaching up to his neck. "What the – "

Clint frowned and spotted the dart in Tony's hand in the dim light.

A sting sensation on his own neck caused him to glace towards the alleyway across the street. It was too dark to really see anything, or maybe it hadn't been as dark a few seconds before. Clint's mind started to fog up as he heard Tony collapse with a groan. Clint's own knees shook and gave under him, hitting the hard sidewalk.

He blinked up, the streetlight haloing the silhouette of a figure standing over him.

"Finally." A familiar voice spoke, but Clint couldn't place it before the darkness dragged him under.

* * *

_The shit has hit the fan ^^ Also sorry for any horrendous mistakes, I wanted to get this out to you guys…_

_If I'm persuaded I might update again before the weekend is through…_

_Reviews and Reviewers are loved! _


	10. Chapter 10

**Lie To Me**

_**Qweb**__ (lol, your wish is my command, most of the time), __**Sandy-wmd**__ (I know right? I'm cruel…but people seem to like that about me…^^), __**kimbee**__ (Thanks so much! I'm relieved last week is over ^^ I'm happy to get this out to you guys ^^), __**discordchick**__ (YAY! You asked all the good questions ^^ Most of which will be revealed below ^^), __**sv4me**__ (I know right? Not for long…), __**thewriterstory**__ (Ooo, you may want to skip this chapter then, lol), __**jpgFury**__ (I didn't leave you guys hanging THAT long ^^)_

**Warnings for this chapter:** Torture. Blood. Torture…some cursing…tread lightly ^^

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Waking up was proving to be a challenge. Normally Clint would be wide-awake at even the lightest sounds at the tower, so it was odd to him now how hard it was to find the surface of consciousness. Slowly Clint came to the realization that he must be under the influence of a drug. Even though it had been a while since he'd woken up in a foggy-haze the feeling was ingrained into his mind. It wasn't a good thing. In fact it was a very bad thing. Bruce had promised no drugs.

Clint's throat worked an attempt to swallow. It was so dry that Clint thought someone had tried to feed him glass while he was unconscious. He tried in vain to open his eyes, but they refused to fight against the gravity that kept them firmly shut. All Clint could do was let out a small moan.

The sound he ended up making was pathetic.

Clint knew he was sitting mostly upright in some sort of seriously uncomfortable chair. It wasn't until he twitched that he realized his hands were cuffed behind his back by steel rings. The objects restraining his hands were probably handcuffs, but Clint wasn't bothered enough yet to check.

Weakly Clint pried his eyes open and blinked at the blur of darkness and light swirling together and totally obscuring his vision. His head tipped back and forth in a half-hearted shaking motion, but it did nothing to clear his mind. If anything the movement ended up sending his world into a violent tailspin that left him even more disoriented.

"Clint?" A voice asked. Judging by sound alone, the owner of the voice, Tony, was somewhere in front of him, but not exactly close by.

Clint blinked a few more times and finally managed to clear his vision enough to see his friend. Tony was bound to a chair exactly like himself. Trapped. Vaguely Clint recalled the memory of darts and darkness - and the voice.

Fear traveled so quickly through Clint he tried to stand only to teeter a bit in his chair and hiss at the sharp bite of the handcuffs digging into his skin.

"Clint!" Tony called through the panicked haze. "Clint, it's okay – well, not really _okay,_ okay. Nothing about this is okay. But it'll _be_ okay! Somehow. We'll make it okay. Together. We'll get out of here, but we need to keep our heads on straight."

Clint forced himself to swallow the fear down and focus on Tony's voice. He locked eyes with the other man and breathed in as slowly as his body allowed given the circumstances.

"That's it," Tony smiled. "It's best if you are the one that's calm and I'm the one that's over reacting. Because that's normal. I'm not meant to be the level headed one." He's grin and upbeat attitude seemed severely misplaced to Clint.

"So what's the plan?" Tony continued, seemingly unhindered by the fact that Clint had yet to say a single word. "I mean, if you can remember any of your voodoo bad ass training it would severely help our situation. A lot."

Clint winced again in response. He didn't remember. At least he couldn't remember anything he thought would help. Had he been in a situation like this before? It would make sense. Some of his memories were rather dire.

"Hey Clint?" Tony's voice dragged his attention back to the man sitting in front of him. "You okay there, buddy? You're freaking me out with the silent bit."

Swallowing drily once more Clint cleared his painful throat and shook his head. "I'm fine." He tried to form the words normally but they came out as more of a pained croak. Clint blushed ever so slightly and cleared his throat again. "Don't remember anything."

"Well," Tony's expression fell as his body deflated visibly. "That sucks."

"Sorry." Clint ducked his head slightly in return.

Tony sighed. "Not your fault. We'll get out of this, don't worry."

Clint watched Tony frown and his face glaze over into his 'thinking really hard' expression.

Ten minutes later Tony growled and slumped again. "Nope, I've got nothing. Looks like we're the damsels in distress this week." He sighed.

"Sorry." Clint repeated again, feeling useless. This was what Natasha had been so worried about. Clint couldn't remember, couldn't contribute in something as 'easy' as an escape.

"Again, not your fault." Tony huffed as if he were offended by the thought. Clint figured Tony was just trying to make light of a rather dark situation.

Clint sighed as silence fell over them again. Apparently whoever captured them wasn't in a rush to do whatever it was they were planning on doing. Clint wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. The voice from before was too foggy to match to a face now. It could be anyone – someone from his current memories or even his past. Or maybe he didn't even know the person and his drugged brain had been messing with him.

"You were going to say something." Clint said suddenly, before his mind could even process what he was saying. "Before – this happened. What was it?"

Tony paled noticeably at the question, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he tried to come up with the answer. It made Clint's heart beat faster since he didn't know the reason behind it. Tony had said it wasn't him who had screwed up, but it still felt like he had done something wrong. All this time, maybe Tony was trying to make up for something. What if they weren't even friends? Clint couldn't bare to think that all of this had been some kind of manipulation. Wrong. It couldn't be that, but what if it were? He needed to know before the unknown drove him insane.

"It wasn't you." Tony managed to get out. "I over reacted about something – "

Before Tony could finish the sentence a loud crack of a door opening silenced them. Footsteps sounded and four men appeared from the darkness of the room.

For the first time Clint took in the equipment in the room. A weird machine and hospital looking bed were off to the side behind Tony. There were no windows or doors and only a few medical lights pointed at them leaving the rest of the room in shadows.

The leader of the group stepped out of the darkness and into Clint's direct line of sight. Their eyes locked together and the breath was suddenly gone from Clint's lungs. Randle's eyes were deadly sharp as they stared back at him. He looked pissed and pleased all at the same time. A smug smirk tipped up the flat line across his lips as he moved closer to Clint.

"I see you've grown up a bit since the last time I saw you." Randle commented as he reached out a hand to pat Clint on the head like a child, or maybe even an animal. "No longer as cowering and needy." Instinct to get away had Clint flinching back as far as his neck would let him. "Cute." Randle deadpanned as he turned his back to Clint and look at Tony. "Did you really think I'd let you superheroes keep him? He's the key to everything I've been working for."

"He's a human being." Tony snarled and took on the impression that he was extremely bored with the conversation at hand. "Besides, you're a half-baked scientist at best. Human studies are so seventy years ago." He huffed.

Randle laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"I don't see how that was funny." Tony frowned, clearly a little unsure about Randle's reactions to his taunts.

"He's part of science now." Randle turned his gaze to Clint again. "That is assuming that our little parlor trick still works." He smirked evilly and moved closer. "I know how much you missed me."

Clint's head filled with anguish when the pain shot through him. Randle was lying on purpose to get a response. Clint unavoidably winced, ducking his head as some form of protection.

"Ah, see? Still works, doesn't it." Randle bared his teeth as he grinned.

One of the guards reappeared, Clint hadn't even seen him leave but he froze when he saw what the man had brought. A tray filled with unpleasant things. Clint's mind flashed back to a time he had stowed away and forced himself to forget. He realized coldly what was about to happen. He was about to be tortured. Clint couldn't breathe.

"You killed Reese quickly," Randle mentioned, his voice suddenly oddly detached as he picked up a scalpel and studied it in the air.

Shame ran through Clint as he remembered how it felt to snap the woman's neck. The sound it made when the bone gave way under the pressure of his hands. He remembered how her lifeless eyes stared up at him in accusation.

"I didn't mean to do it." He whispered, his eyes on the floor as Randle towered over him. "I told her to stay away. I warned her. I didn't mean to do it."

"You killed her." Randle growled.

"Leave him the fuck alone asshole!" Tony suddenly shouted from the other side of the room. Clint stole a glance and saw Tony frantically trying to free himself to help. Maybe Clint didn't deserve his help but Clint felt lighter all the same. He wasn't alone. Tony was here with him, even if in the long run that wasn't a good thing. "He killed the bitch in self defense!" Tony added angrily.

Randle growled, turning towards Tony before he visably reconsidered and whipped around to face Clint once more. "I'm going to make you pay." He promised. "Slowly, for the rest of your pathetic life."

Clint felt the blood drain out of his face as he watched the scalpel being pulled over his skin. It hurt, but not as badly as he thought it might. He winced and resisted to struggle, knowing it would only make the cut worse if he moved.

At some point during the torture Randle had Tony's screams of protest silenced with a gag roughly inserted into his mouth by a guard. Eventually the knife was put to the side on the tray and Randle started to beat Clint with his fist. He aimed more towards Clint's stomach than his face, which was a small blessing, though it made it no less painful.

Finally after what felt like hours, Randle seemed to tire of the activity and used a towel to wipe up the blood that had gotten onto his hand. Clint was in complete disarray and Tony looked close to tears, red faced with frustration and concern, mumbling and shouting incoherent things through the gag secured in his mouth.

"You were a terrible test subject, but still, I'll take what I can get. This time, however I won't make the same mistakes."

Clint looked up fearfully, shrinking back as far as he could away from Randle as he neared him again.

"This time?" Clint managed to ask.

Randle moved closer and dipped his head next to Clint's ear, his voice lowering to a menacing whisper. "I'm going to take away everything you think you are. I'm going to bury it so far down that you'll never question anything ever again. You're going to be the prefect little prize-winning experiment this time around." Randle pulled back and punched Clint across the face, making the archer see stars from the impact. "But first." Randle continued, louder this time as he turned back to Tony. "I'm going to make you watch as I take him apart."

Tony's eyes widened a fraction as two of the guards moved towards him. "W-t, wh-t?" Tony formed the words around the gag with more clarity than Clint thought possible.

"He killed someone special to me." Randle explained as if it were the most simple thing in the world. "So I'm going to do the same thing to him. Except in a more humane way." The crooked smile Randle gave Tony was enough to cause Clint to snap out of his funk and start struggling against his restraints.

"Get away," Clint hissed. "Don't touch him! He didn't do anything!"

Randle smiled. "Neither did Reese and yet you killed her."

Pain lanced through Clint's head again at the lie. They both knew that Reese was just as much a part of the experiment as Randle was. She was just as determined to keep Clint under their power and control.

"Okay, maybe that was a lie." Randle nodded, but snapped his fingers. The guards grabbed Tony, who was struggling now and started to drag him towards the machine and more importantly the bed attached to the machine.

"Either way, you will pay for your crime." Randle commented as he watched the two Avengers struggling for their own reasons with pure joy written on his face. "I'm going to take away everything that makes Stark, Stark and maybe he'll even prove himself as useful as you did. Either way, say you're goodbyes. You won't remember each other in a short while." Randle told them, signaling to one of the guards to remove the gag from Tony's lips.

Tony snapped his teeth at the guy who pulled the gag free and snarled even though he was strapped down, his arms and wrists and body all in buckled restraints. Clint found it admirable and doubled his own efforts to get free.

"I realize this is incredibly cliché." Tony snarled, his eyes shooting daggers at Randle. "But you aren't going to get away with this."

"Of course I am." Randle smiled a deranged smile back at Tony.

Something inside Clint's head snapped as he saw Tony's head being attached to all the mechanical leads. The unrestrained fear in Tony's eyes seemed so wrong and misplaced. Clint wasn't sure what switched on in his brain, but the need to protect Tony, helpless on the table, broke through the barrier in his mind and stole the knowledge needed from his forgotten past.

In a swift motion Clint dislocated his own thumb and slipped a hand free from the cuffs. Once free Clint sprung into action, taking out the surprised guard closest to him with unnatural ease.

Next he moved on to the two other guards that charged towards him. Minutes later they were both down for the count.

Everything was going extremely well until Tony shouted his name just as something barreled into him from the side. A sharp pain pierced Clint's side and he struggled against who he vaguely recognized to be Randle as Tony shouted and cheered in the background from the table.

Clint screamed as the pain in his side increased after his opponent twisted something inside of him. Somehow Clint managed to get Randle into a chokehold Steve had shown him. So far he hadn't killed anyone else and Clint wanted to keep it that way. Eventually the fight died out of Randle and the man went boneless in Clint's grip.

Panting Clint made sure Randle was really down before standing and staggering towards Tony who's eyes were growing wide as he stared at the painful spot on Clint's side. Clint wasn't ready to look yet, so he focused on unstrapping Tony from the bed.

"Clint, holy shit, _Clint_," Tony's voice faded in and out. There was more said, but Clint wasn't focusing very well anymore. Hands traveled to Clint's face gently and somehow at the same time led him gently back onto the table that was suddenly vacated. Tony was free, Clint realized. That was good. Tony would know what to do now.

He blinked slowly and Tony vanished again. He hoped Randle wasn't causing any more trouble as his eyes slipped closed only to snap back open a moment later. Clint let out a piercing scream as the pain increased ten fold.

"Damn it, Clint, I'm sorry," Tony begged for forgiveness as he appeared in Clint's line of blurred sight. "I'm so incredibly sorry, but you're bleeding all over the place – I – I've got to stop it."

Slowly Clint nodded his vague understanding as he started to slip away again.

"No, don't go to sleep!" Tony's voice echoed in Clint's ears. "You can't, just hold on. The team is on their way."

Clint struggled to keep his eyes open, to do what he was told. He looked up at Tony, tilting his head so he didn't have to worry about supporting it anymore. "Saved you." He managed. Trying to joke, but it fell flat.

"Yeah," Tony sobbed. At least it sounded like a sob. Tony didn't really seem like the sobbing type. "Yeah you did, buddy. Just hang on, okay? Natasha will kill me if you don't."

"Try." Clint mumbled weakly in response before he lost the battle a few minutes later.

* * *

_Wow, that was long…but it makes up for the week I skipped, right? I hope you liked it. The next chapter may or may not be the last. ^^ It's been a fun ride you guys. _

_Reviews and Reviewers are loved ^^_


	11. Chapter 11

**Lie To Me**

_Special thanks to everyone who reviewed every chapter of this story and stuck with my little it since the beginning. It's been a wild ride and at times I'm sure you guys thought I would never finish this series…and there are a few of you that wish it wouldn't end ^^ I appreciate you guys the most! And who knows, there might be another story in this series, I'm leaving it open to that in case I get a bit of inspiration. _

_This was my first series ever and it all started with a one shot. It is probably the longest thing I've ever written, so thanks for reading!_

_Special thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: __**kimbee**__ (Hopefully the inspiration will keep flowing for Avengers fics. I do have plans for a few in the future, but my mind is kind of fickle ^^), __**thewriterstory**__ (Exactly ^^ Well, that and he almost had his mind taken away from him. And honestly I think for Tony that would be a fate worst than death), __**Qweb **__(lol, I know, that was mean. But I had to end the chapter somewhere and this way I got more reviews than normal ^^), __**ZhaLenn**__ (Thank you so much for taking the time to respond to the other chapters as well as the last one! You are an epic person! Thanks for reading!), __**Sandy-wmd**__ (I'll consider another addition to this story, but at the moment my mind is drawing a blank. Any ideas you have would be very welcomed, although I can't make any guarantees ^^), __**discordchick**__ (Um, I apologize ahead of time…but thank you so much for reading! I love all your reviews!), __**ELOSHAZZY**__ (I have a huge soft spot for their friendship as well. You can expect to see more Tony/Clint stories in the future…just maybe not within this universe ^^), __**Jaguarspot**__ (I appreciate every review you leave ^^ You rock ^^), __**Lil'fuj13 **__(Nah, I love Clint too much to kill him off ^^ No worries ^^), __**Hawaiichick**__ (I update once a week in stories that are WIP, I updated twice last weekend because the week before was hell and I missed an update.), __**jpgFury **__(I like cliffhangers. I regret nothing.)_

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Tony's hands were still covered in blood. Dried, crusted brownish blood. He hadn't taken the time to wash them, not until he saw Clint's status himself.

"He's going to be okay, Tony." Bruce offered as he sat down next to his friend. "The medical team arrived in time. You gave them enough information that they knew to bring the blood. He's going to make a full recovery."

It had been close. Way too close for comfort. Tony still needed to see Clint with his own eyes before he could relax. He needed the proof that Clint was still alive.

"He saved me, Bruce." Tony spoke for the first time in a few hours. "He nearly died just to save me. Not even from death – Randle wasn't going to kill me. He was just going to take away everything that I am."

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but seemed to change his mind and closed his mouth. Simply he ended up nodding in agreement.

Steve joined them quietly. "You would have done the same for him."

"I tried to escape." Tony nodded. "I just, couldn't. And he finally did, then – " Tony shook his head and tried to regain his composure.

The mask had fallen off ever since he saw Clint get stabbed by the scalpel. Tony was struggling to build it back brick by brick, but he was getting there. It was all a lot to take in. Tony felt strongly that he was the cause of all of this. Randle getting his claws into Clint in the first place was Tony's fault. If Tony hadn't over reacted. If Tony had listened and not kicked Clint to the curb for Pepper's choices, maybe none of this would have happened.

"What happened cannot be changed." Natasha commented from the other side of the room. "Don't punish yourself any further then you already have. Clint wouldn't want that."

Tony nodded, but didn't exactly agree. "Is Randle talking?"

"No." Natasha sighed. "But he will. We have the machine and his research. We should be able to put all the pieces together."

Something clicked in Tony's head. "Wait, that means we can figure out how to reverse whatever they did to Clint."

Natasha nodded slowly. "In theory." She didn't sound like she believed her own words.

Steve's eyes narrowed. "You don't think SHIELD will allow it?" He asked sharply.

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's a dangerous thought."

"It's Clint's choice." Tony snarled. "SHIELD can go screw themselves."

Natasha stared back at him, but didn't respond in a verbal or non-verbal way. It frustrated Tony. Clint's choice couldn't be taken away from him. Not like this. Fury wouldn't allow it. Tony wouldn't let him allow it.

"Clint gets to decide." Tony promised in a tone that left no room for argument.

* * *

Clint woke at his own pace. At first his eyes snapped open, but as soon as he saw that he was in one of SHIELD's medical rooms he relaxed, eyes closed like he'd never regained consciousness. It was a trick he'd learned over the years, it saved him from answering questions before he was ready.

And if anyone was asking, he wasn't ready.

His memory was back, the wall had been broken back in that room with Tony. All the information had flowed out and sometime while Clint had been unconscious his mind had filed everything back where it was supposed to go.

It was good, but it also was bad. Clint was embarrassed by the actions of his secondary self. How he had been timid and indecisive at every little thing. The memories disgusted him.

Clint also felt guiltily for how he had treated people he cared about with such distrust. Everything that had happened was so against his nature, well, for the most part. Everything he'd done had been wrong.

"You can stop fake-napping whenever you feel like talking." Natasha commented from the chair beside him. Clint hadn't heard her come in, but he never did when he was distracted. Besides, she was just that good.

One eye peeled opened to look at her. "Can I disappear?" He asked lightly.

"No." Natasha's harsh tone was redefined by her soft smile. "You remember?" She asked with barely contained hope.

"Yep." Clint sighed grumpily. "I've been an idiot."

Natasha nodded. "Yes. Although, you did have your moments."

Clint shook his head and closed his eyes tightly to hide. "I'm sorry I – I don't even know." Slowly he opened his eyes again and stared up at the ceiling. "This is such a mess."

"It's not as bad as you think." Natasha offered, but the pain that traveled through Clint's mind because of her words told him that she was giving him false hope. It wasn't that bad of pain, so Clint guessed it wasn't a flat-lie but a half-truth.

"Liar." Clint grumbled. "So _that_ didn't go away." He winced with his hand on his forehead even though the pain was already gone. "Damn my luck."

"It appears not." Natasha agreed sadly. "Tony wants to speak with you. He saw you briefly when the doctors allowed us back here. He's – upset."

Clint winced deeply and covered his face in an attempt to hide. "I've been such an idiot." He repeated. "God, I drank alcohol."

"You weren't exactly yourself." Natasha pointed out kindly.

At least he had that excuse. Clint finally dropped his hands away. "What's the damage?" He asked, not looking for himself. He trusted Natasha to tell him the truth. He could already see the bandages swathed around his arms. It made him look like a mummy, or at least half of a mummy.

"Stab wound to the left side, luckily for you Randle has terrible aim. He missed everything important, but you did lose a lot of blood. You also have several lacerations on your arms that required stitches and two broken ribs, the rest are bruised."

"When can I blow this joint?" Clint asked after a quick pause to consider everything.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but didn't hide her small smile. "You're stable, you just need to make sure you keep all your blood inside of your body from here on out." She scolded.

"So I can leave?" Clint pressed.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. "If we're careful, we can get you back to the tower."

"SHIELD knows about the whole?" He gestured to his head. Natasha nodded. "Well, that's not good." He sighed. "I did sign the contract." He pointed out.

"Bruce and Tony are working on a way to reverse what they did to you," Natasha offered. "Shutting off that part of your brain isn't going to be easy though and it's risky."

"Natasha, you know as well as I do that I can't go back into the field like this." Clint pointed out. "I'm completely compromise. I can't even lie without pain shooting through my head. And the people we fight aren't exactly dripping with honesty either. I'd be a total liability."

Natasha smiled back at him without a word.

"Nat?" Clint stared back at her, feeling uneasy. "You're kind of freaking me out. What's up?"

"I've missed you." She told him fondly.

Clint frowned and after a few minutes of consideration his frown deepened. "Nat, you left after New York. You didn't miss me then." He pointed out seriously. Natasha's smile vanished instantly and she stood. "Wait," Clint shook his head. "Don't go."

Natasha looked at her feet before she looked back at him. "I left because you wanted something I couldn't give you."

There was no pain, which broke Clint's heart. "And now?" Clint asked.

Natasha looked away. "I don't know."

"Why'd you come back?"

"I – " She paused. "I couldn't leave you vulnerable. I wouldn't let you die if I could help it. You will always mean something to me."

There wasn't any pain, Natasha was telling the truth. Clint's heart fell ever so slightly, but he knew that what they had, whatever it was, wouldn't progress any further. Natasha was too afraid to get close enough to a person to compromise herself. It was ingrained into her mind from a young age. He couldn't blame Natasha for that; he also couldn't push her to be something she wasn't. It wasn't fair for either of them.

"Thank you." Clint offered honestly. "You always have my back."

Natasha smiled gratefully. "And you have always had mine."

* * *

Clint was moved back to the tower with Steve and Bruce's help.

Apparently Tony was working non-stop on the machine and reversing whatever Randle and Reese did to his brain. It was a good thing, but Clint also felt the need to talk to the man. Of course on the other hand Clint felt the need to hide.

It was obvious from the memories of the last few weeks that Tony was trying to make up with Clint somehow. Maybe. It was the only logical explanation. Tony had saved him from Randle and Reese and brought him back to the tower. Made him feel welcome. Tony helped Clint realize the truth and became his friend.

But that conversation Tony started but never finished, that could be bad. Although, Tony did say it wasn't Clint who had messed up, so that had to mean something.

Clint spent a lot of time sleeping, which was good because the doctors emphasize beds and rest.

Being back in the tower was normal, which was good. Except it wasn't really normal. Everything was odd and uncomfortable. Clint was deeply embarrassed about his time as his…secondary self. If he were being honest with himself he was avoiding everyone.

Bruce was the first person to call him on his bullshit, probably because Natasha had already started to pull away again.

"You're making dinner." Bruce announced after he pinned Clint down in the hallway when he went searching for a light snack in the living area.

"I am?" Clint asked.

"Yes." Bruce nodded affirmation. "You are."

Clint frowned for a moment, but shrugged his acceptance. "Okay. Lasagna?"

"Sounds perfect." Bruce smiled. Together they started the preparation. It was like before, but it was also like normal. "So," Bruce spoke after a while. "Do you want to talk?"

Clint glanced at Bruce as he cut carrots with his favorite knife. It was good to be himself again, doing what he liked.

"About what?" Clint decided to play dumb, but apparently that was close enough to a lie and he winced at the pain he caused himself. "Damn it." He sighed, setting down the knife gently. "Alright. I just – is it weird? To be around me now?"

Bruce snorted. "Not anymore than usual."

Clint raised an eyebrow at that.

Bruce laughed. "Look, I can imagine that you feel a little awkward after what happened. But we all know you weren't yourself. It is good to have you back to normal, but honestly we would have accepted you either way. Clint, you're family."

"It wasn't me." Clint sighed, "That person wasn't me."

"In a way he was you." Bruce shrugged. "For a little while, anyway. And yeah, you might feel a little bit embarrassed, but it won't change anything. Not really."

He'd have to think about it, but Bruce made a point. Life goes one, even when there are bumps in the road.

* * *

Steve cornered him the next day. They went for a run together and it only felt a little awkward. It probably helped that they didn't really speak to each other while they were running. The big bad city didn't seem big or bad anymore. Clint apologized at the end, for his ridiculous behavior.

"No, I get it." Steve responded. "Everything you were experiencing was new and yeah, the city can be scary. When I first came to this time it took me a while to get used to all the new noises and lights. Things were simpler back in my day."

"I acted like a pansy." Clint rubbed a hand over his face.

"You weren't acting." Steve pointed out. "You were afraid. And that's fine. Now you aren't afraid." He shrugged. "Someday I might be whammed and end up terrified, are you going to hold it against me?"

Clint froze for a second as he considered it. In there line of work anything was possible. "No, I wouldn't." He admitted.

"Good," Steve grinned, slapping Clint on the shoulder. "Let's move on with life then. But first, I think you should talk to Tony."

Clint winced deeply. "I've been avoiding it." He admitted. "I mean, I want to talk to him too, but I'm not sure I'm ready."

"I know. We all know, Clint." Steve nodded. "But it's time. He thinks he has the machine figured out anyway. Soon you'll be back to normal."

"Bruce told me yesterday that they wouldn't know if it will work until they try it." Clint pointed out, but nodded. "It would be nice to know if I could go back to work. Like this, it's too risky."

Steve shrugged. "If it didn't hurt so badly, it could be an advantage."

"If." Clint snorted. "But it does." He shrugged. "And knowing someone is lying to you isn't exactly a good thing."

"Ah," Steve nodded. "Yeah, I can see how it might be – upsetting in some cases. Still, you were already pretty good at lie detecting." He added.

"Before I could ignore lies if I wanted to." Clint sighed. "Now I can't ignore a lie if I try."

Steve shook his head. "I have faith that Tony and Bruce will fix this."

Clint sighed, "Yeah." Clint winced from his own lie, he wasn't sure he had as much faith as their fearless leader. "I'll talk to Tony." He promised as they parted ways.

* * *

Later that night Clint slipped into Tony's lab. A rush of cold went through Clint when he realized the last time he stepped in the lab was when he was kicked out of the tower.

"Clint!" Tony's eyes widened when he saw his friend had joined him. Clint almost smiled when he saw Tony's own realization playing on his face. At least what was happening was equally awkward for the both of them. "Uh, good to see you _not_ in a hospital bed."

"Thanks." Clint responded slowly, eyeing the scene. It was eerily familiar. "Maybe, um, I should catch you later."

Tony slowly reached for a towel and shook his head as he cleaned the grease off of his hands. "No, no, we've kind of put this off too long. We need to talk."

Clint dropped his gaze, feeling the shame from before all over again. "This was such a mess."

Tony nodded. "Clint, I'm sorry. I overreacted and then all of this shit happened – "

Clint snorted. "And here I was thinking it was all my fault."

"Please." Tony rolled his eyes. "It took me a long time of denial, but we both know whose fault this is. And then all of this happened and you almost – "

"Not yours." Clint snapped. "It wasn't your fault either, Tony."

Tony sighed, fiddling with a screwdriver on the tabletop next to him. "It's no ones fault then. I mean, Pepper fell out of love with me and in love with you. We were both clueless."

"I didn't mean to lead her on." Clint pleaded.

Tony raised his hand and shook his head once. "I know."

"Women, right?" Clint tried to joke. Tony smiled.

"Yeah." Tony nodded. "Women."

Clint took a moment to let the silence surround them before speaking again. "So, are we good?" He asked hopefully.

Tony snorted. "If you can forgive me for this mess, I can definitely forgive you."

Clint shook his head. "It was my own fault. I knew something was off with Randle, but I just – I was off my game. I knew I was a liability in the field."

"So did Fury." Tony pointed out sharply.

Clint nodded. "Yeah, so did Fury. I wanted the assignment though. I thought I needed it."

"So basically there was a whole bunch of stupid going on with everyone."

"That sounds about right." Clint smirked.

"Look, I'm sorry. Everything I said before I told you to leave." Tony shook his head. "Feel special." He added with a smirk. "I don't apologize often."

Clint snorted. "You don't apologize at all, except maybe when you're saving my life. So, thanks for that."

"It was the least I could do." Tony said nonchalant.

"Yeah." Clint agreed. "It really was." Everything was lighthearted, maybe not completely fixed, but getting there. "So maybe losing my memory was a good thing. Saved us this whole awkward 'what do we do now' period."

"True." Tony shrugged. "I would have just gotten drunk. Getting drunk solves everything."

Clint winced. "About that – "

"Damn it." Tony cursed. "I'm losing my drinking buddy, aren't I?"

Clint grinned. "Looks like."

"Oh, come on, you know you had fun with me." Tony returned the smile.

"Um, I got a headache the first time and spent a few hours throwing up." Clint pointed out. "And the second time we got kidnapped by a crazy person."

Tony squished his lips together in thought. "That's beside the point."

"I think it _is_ the point." Clint laughed. "But I'll consider grabbing a beer with you sometimes."

"I'll take it!" Tony snapped his fingers and turned. "Now, that all the touchy-feely crap is out of the way, should we give this thing a spin?"

Clint felt a chill go through his body again as he looked at the machine. "Now?" He asked and winced as he looked back at Tony. "I mean, isn't there kinks you need to work out or something?"

"Nope. Bruce and I've already got everything figured out. We had all the information; it was just a matter of reversing the process. Stalling is just – stalling at this point. Kind of pointless, unless you're scared or something." The last part was meant as a joke, Clint could tell, but it fell flat between them. Clint had spent so much time afraid of everything.

"Too soon?" Tony winced and Clint managed a smile.

Clint decided to ignore it and prove Tony wrong. He wasn't his scared secondary self anymore.

"Let's do this, then." Clint's eyes snapped to the machine. Tony nodded and Clint sat down on the bed before he maneuvered himself in a more horizontal position so Tony could attach the wire leads to his head.

Clint bit his tongue a moment before the question slipped out. "Just for fun, what's the worse that could happen?" It couldn't hurt knowing all the information. Not jumping in head first without testing to see how deep the water was. Yeah, asking questions was the adult thing to do. It had nothing to do with the fact that Clint was scared. Nothing at all.

Tony meandered around the machine casually before glancing back at Clint. "Worst case scenario? Um, we shut down your whole brain by accident."

"Sounds like fun." Clint frowned at the ceiling. It really didn't sound like fun, the pain that shot through Clint's head agreed. At least _that_ would be gone, however this ended.

"Maybe I should call Bruce down to join us." Tony offered suddenly. Hesitating by the controls. Maybe Tony was afraid too.

Clint shrugged a shoulder. "Would it change anything?" He asked.

"No." Tony admitted with a lazy smirk. "It wouldn't. Well, wait, we might have the added entertainment of the big and green variety on our hands."

"A visit from the hulk while I potentially become brain dead. Yeah, let's not."

Tony shook his head. "Nah, that's not going to happen."

Clint narrowed his eyes, "But you said – "

"Sure I said." Tony interrupted. "You asked what the worse case scenario would be, I gave it to you. It won't happen though."

Clint glanced back at Tony curiously. "Exactly how can you be so sure?"

Tony grinned before he responded. "Because I'm awesome."

"I'd rather have a more concrete reason." Clint sighed and looked back up at the ceiling over him.

"How about Iron?" Tony joked. "I am Ironman after all."

"Yes you are." Clint repeated his sigh and tried to relax. "Okay, let's do this."

Tony turned the machine on and Clint's world went white.

* * *

_So yeah, that didn't seem like the end, did it? Well, that was on purpose. Half of me wanted to say that he was completely cured and be done with this universe but a part of me wanted to keep it open for future stories. What really made me think was my readers. I want to try something but I'm not sure how many of you would be interested. _

_**My Challenge **__(If you choose to accept it) is: Write your own last chapter to this story. It can be however long you want and focus in on whatever relationship you want to focus in on (0r it could focus on the entire team). If you send it to me via PM I'll post it as a chapter/alternative ending and give you the credit in the authors note. _

_The endings I receive will not necessarily impact any future stories in this universe, I'm just curious to see if anyone will take my challenge. I mean, it might even inspire me to write a fourth installment ^^_

_Don't hate me? I love you guys! _


	12. Readers Alternative Endings

Hey guys, this is the first round of alternative endings! I'm so excited to see so many people interesting on giving the ending their own flare! I'm thinking so I don't flood everyone's mailboxes with updates I'm just going to list all of the alternative endings in this chapter. The author of the ending will be bolded and I will PM the author once their addition has been added so they know it's viewable. In a week or so I might finish everything off with my own epilog ^^

BTW, I did not edit these much from when I got them…because it really isn't my place ^^ If any of the original authors wish to change something or swap out their chapter just let me know and send me the new version.

Thanks!

* * *

_**Number One:**_ **thewriterstory**

To Strawberrywaltz Lie to me: continued ending:

Disclaimer: Marvel owns all the below mentioned characters.

* * *

"Clint? Hawkeye? Hello? Anyone home?" Tony flicked Clint's forehead.

"Ow! It hurts!" Clint growled as his eyes flickered open. He expected to see a white ceiling but was met with Tony's face.

"I wake up in the morning and what do I see? Tony Stark's face." He said in a sing-song voice,

"You've been knocked out for only 20 minutes. My face isn't that bad."

"It is. Can I take these wires off now?"

"Yep you can. Brain scans show you're perfectly normal to me. Up for a lie detector test?" Clint nodded.

"Clint is Hawkeye."

"No pain, Tony."

"Natasha was sent to spy on me."

"No pain."

"Steve is a Shield Assassin."

"I errm... I have a weird tingling thing ringing at the back of my head..."

"A what?"

"Its like an extra sense. Like a lie detector sense or something. It's a warning bell but its not painful."

Tony asked a few more questions,

"Tony hates Hot-rod red."

"Tingling sense again."

"Ooh I've got it!" Tony snapped his fingers in thought.

"What?"

"Have you read the Spider-man comics?"

"Not much of them. Why?"

"You know when Peter Parker was bitten by the mutated spider he has spider like abilities? Then he has another ability, which doesn't originate from the spider. He named it the spider-sense. It warns him of danger."

"Crazy theory but it'll do."

"Hey on the bright side, you can detect lies without feeling searing pain!" He said, cheerful.

"But knowing the lies could hurt you mentally and emotionally."

Tony looked at his depressed comrade. He clapped him on the shoulder and led him upstairs to the living room. "We've gotta tell everyone the news. You ready?"

"*sighs* Guess you're right. At least know I won't feel anymore pain from knowing the lie."

"Hey if it helps you, I'm going to try and solve the problem if you don't like that tingling sense."

"Nah, I'll live."

2 Months later:

Clint's (fill name) sense has proved to be useful in battle, rescue and interrogation missions. He already assured Bruce and his now close pal, Tony that they need not come up with a cure to reverse the (name) sense. He is also happy to say that Tony and Pepper have started dating again and the trio have mended their relationship and strengthened their bonds once more.

* * *

_**Number Two:**_ **ELOSHAZZY **

* * *

Tony gave Clint a reassuring smile.

He took a slow and steady breath and flipped the switch, his heart was pounding fast he knew it was going to work "it just has to" he's said out loud to himself not realizing it until he saw the look of fear in Clint's eyes.

Clint's whole body started shaking and his head jerked from side to side as the electricity ran through the wired connected to his scalp.

Clint yelped, it felt like a fire was burning in his brain. All the lies and false memories seem to be burning away like a fast moving brush fire destroying everything in Clint's subconscious mind.

Tony realized this was going to be painful and winched when both of Clint's eye shot open quickly when Tony power down the machine. Tony leaned over Clint and removed all the wires on his head tapping Clint on the cheek lightly he called, "Feathers, time to wake up," when Clint kept staring at the ceiling Tony started to worry tapping him harder across the cheek he moaned, "Come on Legolas time to wake the hell up and save the world."

Clint sat up and blinked a few times and smirked, then he broke out laughing, "Just testing to see if you really do love me."

Tony jumped back with a look of surprise on his face, then he smiled and grabbed Clint hugging him tight, "You know I do you ass."

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_More Endings Coming Soon! _


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